


Best of You

by just_chiara



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Kevin Day, During Canon, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, POV Jeremy Knox, POV Kevin Day, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Recovery, Romance, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Trojan!Kevin Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 95,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_chiara/pseuds/just_chiara
Summary: AU where Kevin never found his mother’s letter and doesn’t know that Wymack is his father. Starts pre-series, half-way through Kevin’s freshman year at Edgar Allan and Jeremy’s sophomore year at USC.





	1. Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> <strike>To make my job easier,</strike> I set it ten years later so I’d be more familiar with the technology/movies/etc. mentioned. Everything happens between 2015 and 2017 instead of between 2005 and 2007.

_Were you born to resist or be abused?_  
_Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?_  
_Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?_  
—“Best of You” by Foo Fighters

# PREQUEL

**FRIDAY, January 1st, 2016**

If someone had told Jeremy a year ago that he would wake up on January 1st with his arms around Exy legend Kevin Day, he would have laughed. And yet here they were, in Jeremy’s childhood bedroom, buried under a Superman duvet while the sun lazily came up for the first time this year. Back warm against Jeremy’s chest, breathing deep and regular, injured left hand resting on a pillow, Kevin was (finally, thankfully) sleeping.

Jeremy didn’t dare move, too afraid to wake him up. Without his glasses, the clock on the wall was too blurry for him to read, but it couldn’t be too late. The house was still and quiet, the light coming through the drawn curtains soft.

He closed his eyes. He could sleep a bit longer. Hopefully, Kevin would too.

* * *

**Ten Days Earlier**

Jeremy, travel bag on his right shoulder, was looking for his flight information on the huge Departures screen at LAX when he got the call. He barely looked at his phone before answering, too distracted by the task at hand and the anxiety-inducing prospect of going through security checks to stop and ask himself who could be calling him from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he said breezily.

“Jeremy? It’s Kevin.”

It wasn’t the words themselves that caught Jeremy’s full attention so much as the strain in Kevin’s voice. Departures screen forgotten, he moved to stand against the nearest wall to have at least some illusion of privacy. “Kevin?” he said, confused. He wasn’t sure he would’ve recognized the voice if Kevin hadn’t introduced himself. And why wasn’t he calling from his own phone?

“What’s wrong? What number is this? Are you okay?” he asked.

Silence.

Jeremy was about to repeat the questions when he heard Kevin’s voice again. “It’s Coach Wymack’s phone. I’m—Fuck.”

Coach Wymack? From Palmetto State University? Jeremy knew he and Kevin were in contact, but why was Wymack at Evermore during winter break? It didn’t make any sense. There was a far more pressing question, though.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Another pause, a shorter one this time. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“You can always call me,” Jeremy reassured him. “What’s going on?”

No answer.

“I can tell you’re not okay. What happened?” he asked again, gently. He waited a few seconds. He could hear Kevin breathing; the line wasn’t dead. “Kev? Did you have a fight with Riko? Is he being an asshole again?”

He heard Kevin catch his breath at the question. Or, Jeremy realized a second later, at the name.

“He—” A muffled sob. Short, ragged breaths. “Fuck.”

“Kevin?” Jeremy stayed on the line, listening to Kevin’s rapid breathing, trying desperately to figure out what the right thing to say was. “Is Jean there with you?” he asked eventually.

_Please say yes. Please say yes. Please don’t be alone._

It was a few more moments before Kevin replied. “No.” A pause. “I’m not at Evermore.”

“Alright. Wymack then? Are you with him?” Jeremy tried to keep his voice steady through his confusion. What the hell was happening? He’d never heard Kevin so distressed.

“Yeah. He’s in the next room.” Kevin said eventually. His breathing was almost back to normal, but the fear in his voice was still there. “I’m at PSU.”

PSU. Jeremy tried to think of a reason—any reason—why Kevin would be there. There were no games, and he was supposed to spend winter break training with the US Court. And why, _why_ did he sound so… _broken_?

“What happened?” he asked again. “Something happened, didn’t it? Are you okay?”

“Riko—” Kevin started, but then he let out a half-sob and didn’t finish. “I can’t. I can’t tell you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“Don’t hang up,” Jeremy pleaded. His heart was racing, his mind was going through worst-case scenarios. He took a deep breath. The last thing he needed right now was an anxiety attack in the middle of LAX. “Kevin, please. Just talk to me. You’re scaring me. What happened?”

Silence. Again.

Jeremy looked at the screen: the call was still connected; Kevin hadn’t hung up.

Could something have happened to Wymack? He and Kevin weren’t close exactly, but—No, Kevin had said the Foxes’ coach was in the next room. Which other reason could Kevin have to be at PSU? Jeremy struggled to find a connection. Andrew Minyard played for the Foxes, but he and Kevin had only met once months ago. As far as Jeremy knew, they hadn’t kept in contact.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“No.”

It was barely a whisper, but it felt like an earthquake shaking the ground Jeremy was standing on.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He tried to keep his voice calm. He didn’t know if he succeeded. Probably not.

“I should—I should go. I’m sorry.”

The line went dead.

Jeremy felt a wave of panic wash over him. He took a deep breath, then another. He gripped at the strap of his travel bag so tightly it left a mark on the palm of his left hand.

Another breath.

He tapped quickly on the screen of his phone to call back the same number—Coach Wymack’s number. It rang fifteen times before going to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. He called Kevin’s phone next, but it was switched off. Not knowing what else to do, he called Wymack again.

_Please pick up. Please pick up. C’mon. C’mon. C’mon._

“Jeremy, he doesn’t want to talk to you,” a voice said. Not Kevin’s voice. Wymack’s?

It didn’t matter.

“What’s going on?” Jeremy asked.

“I will tell him you called.”

“Don’t hang up. What happened? Please. _Please._ He’s my friend.” Jeremy knew he sounded desperate. He didn’t care.

Unfortunately, neither did the man on the other side of the call: “Try calling in a few days.”

The call was disconnected before Jeremy could reply. Before he could ask more questions, plead for answers, implore for an explanation.

_Fuck._

He scrolled through his contacts. Who could he call? If only he had Jean’s number. Jean had to know what was going on. But Kevin was the only Raven in his contacts, and he didn’t know anyone at PSU either. His old captain Jameal was now playing for the same pro team as two ex-Ravens, but last time they talked he’d made it sound like his relationship with them was barely civil. Jeremy couldn’t ask for a favor without explaining why he needed Jean’s number, and even if he did, there was no guarantee those Ravens would come through.

He called his coach instead.

Rhemann answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Do you have Jean Moreau’s number?” Jeremy asked right away. He didn’t have time for small talk.

“Jean Moreau’s? No. Why do you even need it?”

Jeremy ignored the question. “Can you get it? Is there someone you can ask? I don’t know anyone. The Ravens—They’re not friends with anyone I know.” He hoped the desperation in his voice would stop Coach R. from asking him too many questions. He needed to get in contact with Kevin. He needed to know what was going on.

“What about Kevin?” Rhemann asked.

“I can’t call him. That’s the point.”

“Jeremy, tell me what’s going on,” his coach demanded. “Why did Coach Wymack ask me for your number earlier today and why do you need Moreau’s now? I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Wymack had asked Coach R. for Jeremy’s number? That meant Kevin didn’t have his phone at all, which was weird, especially since he was traveling. Sure, he could’ve simply forgotten it, but too many things were not adding up.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Coach, that’s what I’m trying to find out,” he said. “Something happened. Something—”

Bad? Yeah, definitely something bad.

And Riko had to be involved somehow: Kevin’s reaction to his name had been telling. Did they have a fight? How bad did it have to be for Kevin to leave? For him to travel all the way to South Carolina? How upset did he have to be to leave his phone behind?

Kevin had gone to great lengths to call Jeremy, having Wymack ask Rhemann for his number. He _wanted_ to talk to him. He wanted to.

“I have to go, Coach. I’ll call you soon.”

He hung up before Rhemann could reply. He could explain and apologize later. Right now, he needed to change his flight. It was still early: with some luck, he’d be in Palmetto in the late afternoon.


	2. Chapter 1: Alexander the Great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Jeremy and Kevin met.

# Part I: Worlds Apart

_Alexander the Great_  
_His name struck fear into hearts of men_  
_Alexander the Great_  
_Became a God amongst mortal men_  
—“Alexander the Great” by Iron Maiden

## Chapter 1: Alexander the Great

**Eleven months earlier**

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hi kevin :) it’s jeremy  
  
knox  
  
jeremy knox from the trojans  
  
you gave me your number last night so i hope it’s okay that i’m texting you  
  
my teammates totally freaked out when i told them i have kevin day’s number  
  
…i probably shouldn’t have texted that  
  
*delete delete delete* lol  
  
(and now you have half a dozen messages from me and i’m regretting half of them)  
  
anyway, i’ll stop texting now. i hope your flight back was alright  
  
scratch that. one more! i looked it up and you were right. (ravens win again, damnit!) alexander really never lost a battle. whaaat?? life goals, ahah  
  


Jeremy fell back against the pillows with a groan. He dropped his phone on the bed next to his knee and flipped it screen down so he wouldn’t have to look at the long string of embarrassing texts he’d just sent Kevin Day.

_Kevin Day_.

He had Kevin Day’s phone number. He was still waiting for that to sink in.

“You alright there, Knox?” his roommate asked him from the other side of the room. Sitting with his legs propped up on the desk and his chair precariously tilted back, Chayton was flipping through the book on his lap like it was a fashion magazine instead of a 400-page volume on Spanish grammar.

“I might need a new identity,” Jeremy said. “I just sent Kevin Day, like, ten messages, and I wish I could take back all of them except maybe one.”

“Oh, well, it can’t be worse than last night, right?” Chayton said easily, but then he shot Jeremy a worried look. “You can’t possibly have embarrassed yourself worse than last night, right? Please tell me you didn’t.”

Last night. The Day Spirit Award ceremony. The whole team, all dressed up and wearing proud smiles, had been there to accept their award. For the first time ever, Kevin Day himself had presented it, introducing it with a brief speech about the importance of sportsmanship and how his mother would’ve been proud of the Trojans for winning, once again, the Spirit Award. On stage, Kevin had been at ease if a little detached. If the media vultures had been hoping for him to get teary-eyed while he talked about his mother, they’d been sorely disappointed. Later, however, the fierce passion he always displayed on the Exy court had made an appearance as he talked to Jeremy about Alexander the Great.

Jeremy remembered introducing himself, heart thumping loudly in his chest because _Fuck, this was Exy legend Kevin Day standing in front of him._ (Not to mention his first celebrity crush.) Kevin flashed him a polite smile while they exchanged a few general comments about the Exy season so far. It should have been over then; Kevin should’ve moved on to making small talk with someone else. Everyone was dying to say a few words to him and Riko. People were circling them like bees with honey.

“I love the quote you used in your speech,” Jeremy blurted out just as Kevin made to turn away to say hello to the Lions’ coach. “Aristotle?”

It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question. Jeremy knew perfectly well that the quote was, in fact, by Aristotle. One of his favorites, too: _I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self._ But at that moment, with Kevin Day standing inches away from him, Jeremy had forgotten even his own name.

The smile Kevin gave him was a bit softer than before. A little less charming, a little less perfect, a little more real. “I didn’t think anyone would know that,” he admitted, sounding almost impressed.

“Big fan.” Jeremy smiled back. “Did you know Aristotle was Alexander the Great’s tutor?”

He regretted the comment almost immediately because who talked about school at an Exy event? How lame was that? And out of every smart thing he could’ve said about Aristotle, he’d picked a relatively uninteresting fact that most people knew anyway? _Fuck._ But Kevin nodded eagerly and started talking enthusiastically about Alexander.

“Last night wasn’t that bad,” Jeremy told his roommate, a bit uncertain. Sure, he’d made a few stupid jokes. He’d probably talked a little too fast and a little too much like he had a tendency to do when he was nervous. But Kevin either hadn’t noticed or he hadn’t minded. He’d even laughed at a couple of jokes, and he’d given Jeremy his number, hadn’t he?

Jeremy had insisted Alexander couldn’t possibly have never lost a battle and was about to google it when Kevin had scribbled down his phone number on a napkin and said, “Text me when you find out I’m right.”

Jeremy sat up when his phone buzzed with a new message. A second one came through before he got the chance to read the first.

Kevin Day had just texted him. Twice.

No big deal.

(Fucking big, enormous, huge-ass deal.)

**Kevin:** Hey, Jeremy. It was good meeting you last night. I’m glad you texted me.  
  
I told you I was right about that. To be honest, I’m still kind of hurt that you didn’t take my word for it. P.S.: It was Kevin vs. Jeremy, not Ravens vs. Trojans.  
  


Jeremy smiled as he typed his replies.

**Jeremy:** i like that. the kevin vs. jeremy thing. although i’d much rather be on your team :))  
  
i promise i’ll trust you next time :)  
  


(_Stop with the smiley faces. Fucking stop. He’s gonna think you’re nine years old._)

**Jeremy:** you’re my go-to guy for history stuff from now on  
  
totally gonna text you all the time when i take ancient world history next semester  
  
(i’m blaming you btw)  
  
(you got me into it last night so i decided to take it as an elective)  
  
(my advisor is gonna hate me so much)  
  
(though not as much as when i took intro to criminal psychology)  
  
((my major is philosophy btw))  
  
((in case you were wondering))  
  
((which you probably weren’t))  
  
((what’s your major?))  
  
(((how much are you regretting giving me your number right now? ahah)))  
  


He was rambling. Again. Oversharing, too. Why should Kevin Day care about his classes? And what was up with all those parentheses? _Fucking chill down, Jeremy._

“Are you writing him a fucking trilogy over there? Give him a chance to type something back.” Chayton had stopped pretending to study and was now looking at Jeremy with an amused look on his face.

“Fuck off. Go do something else. It’s Sunday afternoon, there must be something happening on campus. Something more interesting than watching me humiliate myself via text.”

Chayton shrugged. “Nah, you’re pretty interesting. You should have your own Netflix show.”

Jeremy flipped him off but got distracted by Kevin’s replies before he had time to say anything back.

**Kevin:** So you want to be a philosopher?  
  
I’m majoring in History and I’m really proud of myself for getting you into it. Have your advisor call me if he gives you a hard time: History and Philosophy are connected, so it makes perfect sense for you to take that class.  
  
I’m curious now, though… Why did you take Criminal Psychology?  
  


Oh, so Son of Exy Kevin Day was a history nerd. Suddenly, last night made sense. It must be why Kevin had given him his phone number, Jeremy realized. Nobody else talked about anything other than Exy at those events. Clearly, their conversation must have stood out.

**Jeremy:** you break my heart, kevin day  
  
i was hoping you’d say “no, jeremy, i don’t regret giving you my number AT ALL”  
  


He laid back down and relaxed a little. The conversation was going well. Kevin had even asked him a question, which meant he wanted to keep the conversation going, right?

**Jeremy:** i wanna be an exy player who knows philosophy :))  
  
criminal psychology… totally embarrassing  
  
i had a crush on this super-cute criminology student  
  
hold on. that makes me sound like a stalker and it wasn’t like that  
  
i just wanted an excuse to talk to him, you know?  
  
class was boring af but we dated for a while so it was worth it  
  


“I think I just came out to Kevin Day,” he announced to his roommate. Because fuck, he did, didn’t he? Whatever. It wasn’t like it was a secret.

Chayton snorted. “You mean he didn’t realize it last night when you were making heart eyes at him?” he asked.

“I didn’t! And how would you know? You were on the opposite side of the room.”

“Laila gave me the play-by-play,” Chayton said. “Oh, Kevin, you quoted Aristotle, that’s so hot. You are so smart and talented and good-looking,” he added, making his voice higher and batting his eyelashes.

Jeremy laughed but still feigned offense. “That’s not what happened at all. We had a serious and mature conversation about—”

“Yeah, I’m choosing to trust Laila on this one,” Chayton interrupted. He got up and headed for the door. “And Jameal also mentioned some blushing. I’m gonna make popcorn. This is some good shit. Don’t do anything interesting or embarrassing until I get back.”

“You’re all assholes!” Jeremy shouted after him. The fondness in his voice erased the harshness of his words. He looked at the screen: Kevin was typing. The messages came in rapid succession a few seconds later. In the other room, Jeremy could hear the microwave buzzing. “You better be making popcorns for me too!” he told his roommate.

**Kevin:** No, Jeremy, I don’t regret giving you my number AT ALL.  
  
But I’m kind of disappointed in you.  
  


_Shit._ Was Kevin Day homophobic?

Jeremy held his breath and watched anxiously as Kevin typed another message.

**Kevin:** You dated someone who doesn’t play Exy? Unforgivable!  
  


_Oh, thank fuck._

A joke wasn’t exactly what he hoped for when he came out to someone, especially if the punch line came late enough to make his heart race and his mind spin out of control into a panic, but as far as reactions went, it wasn’t too bad.

In a few minutes, he might even appreciate the joke. Just as soon as his heartbeat slowed down a little.

Kevin didn’t need to know all that, though, so he kept it to himself and typed a reply that made it sound like what just happened wasn’t a big deal.

**Jeremy:** love is love  
  
don’t hate  
  
**Kevin:** So now you’re taking History to have an excuse to talk to me?  
  


“NO!” Jeremy started typing in a panic. Then he realized Kevin was probably joking again. No need to freak out. It was just an innocent joke. It was fine. Everything was fine. Kevin had made a couple of jokes to let him know he was okay with Jeremy dating boys; he was being cool. (But he really needed to learn how to use emojis before giving Jeremy a heart attack.)

Jeremy deleted the message, did his best to push his anxiety aside, and tried to sound relaxed.

**Jeremy:** are you flirting with me, kevin day? :))  
  
**Kevin:** No.  
  
…Wait, are you?  
  
**Jeremy:** nah. you’d know it if i was. i’m a pro at flirting  
  
if i were, i’d tell you that you remind me of alexander the great and that i’d follow you to the edge of the earth  
  
and that your eyes are the stuff of legends  
  
and that you put the exy in sexy  
  


Alright, so maybe he was flirting a little. Whatever. At least he wasn’t rambling like an idiot anymore.

He must have been smiling as he typed, because Chayton laughed when he came back into the room and said, “Your crush on him is adorable. And pathetic, but mostly adorable.”

He was leaning against the doorframe holding a bowl of caramel popcorn. The too-sweet smell filled the room. Jeremy’s mouth watered. Thankfully Sunday was cheat day.

“I play Exy and I like boys. Of course I have a crush on him. That’s, like, a given,” he said. “I dare you to find a male, not-straight, college Exy player whose gay awakening wasn’t Kevin Day.”

“Jaimie,” Chayton replied without even thinking. He made his way to Jeremy’s bed and pushed Jeremy’s legs out of the way so he could sit down, then set the bowl of popcorn in between them. Jaimie, their starting offensive dealer and Jeremy’s best friend, had never been shy about his celebrity crush on Riko. Jeremy often said they were friends in spite of that.

Jeremy ate some popcorn while his phone buzzed with new messages. “Alright, whose gay awakening wasn’t Kevin Day _or Riko Moriyama_,” he conceded before reading the new texts.

**Kevin:** Those are awful pick-up lines.  
  
Alexander died at 32. I like to think I’ll have a longer life than that, thank you very much.  
  
And you’re totally flirting with me right now.  
  


Jeremy wondered if Kevin knew that bit of information about Alexander the Great off the top of his head or if he had to google it. He typed his replies easily. He was relaxed now. Texting Kevin was less nerve-wracking than expected. He wasn’t Exy God Kevin Day, he was just… Kevin.

It probably helped that he wasn’t standing in front of Jeremy looking at him with his _insane_ green eyes.

**Jeremy:** am not  
  
but if i were, you’d totally be into it  
  
the exy/sexy line was gold  
  
and i was talking about what he accomplished not his death  
  
**Kevin:** The Exy/sexy line didn’t even make sense. And Riko’s King.  
  
**Jeremy:** and yet you’re the one i’d follow  
  


Jeremy looked at the screen. No more typing on Kevin’s end. “Show’s over,” he told his roommate. “C’mon, let’s watch a movie. I’ll call Laila and see if she wants to join us.”

* * *

Between extra practices to get ready for Spring Championship and getting used to the new semester’s schedule—History at 9 AM on Monday might have been a mistake, Jeremy had to admit—the following week went by fast. Jeremy almost texted Kevin on Thursday night after watching the Ravens win their first Round 1 game, but got distracted by a phone call from one of his sisters and forgot.

On Friday night, he was in a good mood after a hard-earned victory and a just a little bit tipsy from the cocktails Jaimie kept making for him at the celebratory party they were having in the common room in the basement. He danced with one of the goalies for a while, then collapsed on a purple bean chair laughing. It was late but the party was still in full swing. The Trojans lived by the _Work hard, play hard_ motto. Jameal, their captain, had promised them a two-day party if they beat Penn State in semis, and Jeremy knew he would keep his word.

Jaimie found him a few minutes later. He was holding two red and gold hoodies instead of more drinks, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Come outside with me for a bit?” Jaimie asked.

Jeremy took the hand his best friend was offering and let Jaimie pull him to his feet. Jaimie guided him down the hallway, up the stairs and out of the four-story building that housed the Exy and basketball teams, into the chilly January night.

“You okay?” Jeremy signed. His knowledge of ASL wasn’t the reason they’d become friends, but it had definitely helped to bring them closer.

“Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. I needed a break.”

Jeremy nodded. He knew it was exhausting for Jaimie to come to their team parties. He had to rely on lipreading a lot, which required deep concentration and a lot of mental energy. It also meant he couldn’t follow most of the group conversations going on. It helped that Jeremy and one other player, Shawna, were fluent in ASL and would gladly interpret, and that a lot of players were by now familiar with at least a few signs and did their best to speak clearly and to face him. But he still preferred to engage in one-on-one conversations whenever possible.

After pulling on his hoodie, Jeremy leaned against the wall and looked up to the sky: the moon was a bright, almost-perfect half-circle. Jaimie instead sat down on the curb and stretched. They both lost themselves in thought, trying to unwind after a long day, content with each other’s presence without feeling the need to talk.

Jeremy texted his parents then opened his chat with Kevin. No new messages since their first conversation last Sunday. He read the last few texts over, then started typing. He’d been thinking about it a lot. Or, actually, _worrying_ about it a lot, like Jaimie had said. (Unnecessarily, he’d added.)

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** did i say something wrong?  
  
i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, i’ll tone down the not-flirting  
  


Considering the time difference, he wasn’t expecting a reply till the next morning, but one came through almost right away. Did Kevin ever sleep? Maybe he really was a god after all, unburdened by human needs such as sleep.

**Kevin:** Don’t worry, we’re good. I’ve just been busy.  
  


Jeremy didn’t know if Kevin was telling the truth or just being polite. He didn’t think he’d crossed any lines, but it was often hard to know for sure where other people’s boundaries were. It didn’t help that it wasn’t always easy for him to tell justified worries and anxiety-fueled paranoia apart. He decided to follow his therapist’s advice to take Kevin’s words at face value and believe him when he said they were good.

**Jeremy:** busy revolutionizing exy & digging into ancient times?  
  
great game last night btw :)  
  
got something planned for the weekend?  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you! I’ve got a photoshoot & interview for Exy Magazine on Saturday.  
  
**Jeremy:** awesome! gonna grab a copy as soon as it comes out  
  
you got the cover, i presume?  
  
just you or riko too?  
  
**Kevin:** With Riko. Why would I do a photoshoot alone? And yes, we’ll be on the cover.  
  
**Jeremy:** because you’re KEVIN DAY, that’s why!  
  


Jeremy felt Jaimie’s eyes on him. He looked away from the screen to his friend. “Kevin and Riko are gonna be on the cover of Exy magazine soon,” he told him. “They’re doing the photoshoot and interview tomorrow.”

“I hope they’ll ask Riko about the rumors that they’ll be inducted to the national team soon,” Jaimie replied. “I want to know if he plans on saying yes.”

“Of course they’ll say yes. It’s Court.”

Jaimie shrugged. “Thea Muldani turned them down last year. Coach Moriyama already announced they’ll play with the Wildcats starting this summer. Can they really juggle three teams on top of school? I don’t know about you, but I barely have time to sleep as it is.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jeremy agreed after considering it. “After all, they can afford to say no. It’s not like Court won’t ask them again in a few years.”

“Exactly.” Jaimie pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Speaking of attractive athletes, my boyfriend’s calling,” he told Jeremy before taking the video call.

“Tell him I say hi,” Jeremy signed. He checked his phone for new messages.

**Kevin:** You need to stop saying that.  
  
What do you have planned for the weekend?  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m gonna spend sat. morning on the court and the afternoon at the beach :)  
  


It had been Jameal’s idea. In all likelihood, he was going to sign with the Las Vegas Tornadoes after graduation, so he was trying to spend as much time at the beach as possible while he still could. Chayton, who loved surfing and didn’t mind the cold, had accepted enthusiastically and somehow talked both Jeremy and Laila into coming along.

**Kevin:** It sounds like a great plan. I’m a bit jealous.  
  
**Jeremy:** you’re welcome to join us at the beach anytime  
  
you can be an honorary trojan :)  
  
(it’s too cold for the beach right now tbh but whatever)  
  
but seriously, come to cali this summer  
  


God, he must be drunker than he thought if he was casually inviting Kevin Day to spend the summer in California with him. Maybe it was time to stop texting and go to bed. Then again…

**Kevin:** I’d love to, but I’ve got Exy. Some of us play for more than one team.  
  


Was Kevin _trying_ to make him say something he shouldn’t? Oh well, he promised himself he wouldn’t flirt, but he could still make a joke, right? Maybe the cocktails he’d drunk earlier were doing a number on his self-control, or maybe he was too tired to care.

**Jeremy:** oh, kevin, i play for both teams too :))  
  
**Kevin:** That’s not what I meant and you know it.  
  
**Jeremy:** all work and no play… :)  
  
**Kevin:** …is how we keep kicking your ass!  
  
**Jeremy:** rude & uncalled for  
  
ahah joking  
  
**Kevin:** :)  
  
Gotta go, Riko’s calling me.  
  
**Jeremy:** talk soon  
  


Just then, Jaimie got up and pocketed his phone. He leaned against the wall right next to Jeremy, their shoulders touching through their thick sweaters. “Still texting Kevin?” he signed.

“Not anymore. I’m all yours.” Jeremy put his phone in the front pocket of his hoodie. “How’s Taylor?”

“Buried in homework, but otherwise fine.”

“How many classes is he taking this semester?” Jeremy asked. Jaimie’s boyfriend was the only student Jeremy knew who took more than four classes per semester while also playing on the basketball team. The guy was crazy smart. Also, probably, just crazy.

Jaimie sighed. “Only five because he will need to spend some extra time in the lab and his coach threatened to kick him off the team if he’s even five minutes late to practice again. Basically, I’m never going to see him.”

“At least you have a boyfriend.” Jeremy rested his head on Jaimie’s shoulder for a few moments.

“You know Sean, Taylor’s friend?” Jaimie waited for Jeremy to nod before going on. “He says half the swim team would love to date you. And that’s only because the other half is straight. Actually, he said a couple of guys are questioning their heterosexuality because of you.”

Jeremy laughed.

Just then, two swimmers walked by the street in front of their dorms and waved at them. “Hi, Jeremy!” one of them said. “Great game tonight!”

“Thank you, Ry!” Jeremy shouted back. “See you at the library on Monday?”

Ryan smiled. “You know you will.”

“Case in point,” Jaimie signed, laughing, while the two swimmers, after a last good look at Jeremy, made their way to their dorms. “Ryan’s cute and he’s totally your type. You should ask him out.”

“Maybe I will,” Jeremy told him noncommittally.

He wanted to be in a relationship, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy right now to get to know another person, to get in synch with someone new. He looked at Jaimie. Dating him would be easier. He’d had a crush on his best friend since pretty much the moment they’d met, but they’d always had bad timing. Since things were going so well between Jaimie and Taylor, that wasn’t likely to change. Maybe he really should ask Ryan out. The swimmer had hinted more than once that he was available and interested, and Jaimie was right: he was Jeremy’s type.

“You should. So then we can go on double dates.” Jaimie bumped his shoulder lightly against Jeremy’s.

Jeremy nodded but then changed the subject. He didn’t want to think about Ryan right now, and he was definitely tired and tipsy enough to say something stupid to Jaimie if the conversation went on. “I’m freezing. Ready to go back inside?”

“Yeah, but I’m going back to my room. Hearing parties are exhausting.” He wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s waist and lead him inside. Jeremy leaned into him.

“I’ll say goodnight to the others and then I’ll join you. Wanna watch a movie?”

“No, I’m going to bed,” Jaimie signed one-handed. “I’ve got a breakfast date with Taylor at seven tomorrow.”

Jeremy made a pained expression. “AM?” he asked sympathetically.

“AM,” Jaimie confirmed. He let go of Jeremy as they got to the elevator. “He wants to spend some time in the lab with his beloved bacteria later.”

“You STEM majors are weird.”

They both laughed. It was a running joke between them since Jaimie’s major was Biochemistry and Jeremy’s was Philosophy.

“I’m too tired to argue,” Jaimie admitted. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Jeremy wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder for a few minutes. Jaimie was a bit taller than Jeremy, so the position was particularly comfortable, and it felt so good to be this close to him, even if just as friends. If the hug lasted a bit longer than a hug between friends was supposed to, Jamie didn’t seem to mind either.


	3. Chapter 2: How to Make You Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin has a bad day; Jeremy helps.

_I am a psychologist to the psychologists_  
_I am the silver moon, friend of the stars_  
_I am not the chosen one_  
_I can only do miracles when I‘m drunk_  
_I'm not the world’s funniest clown_  
_But I know how to make you laugh_  
—“How to Make You Laugh” by The Crimea

## Chapter 2: How to Make You Laugh

Jeremy was a morning person. He liked going for a run when the sun was barely even out, getting his coffee and favorite breakfast burrito (eggs, spinach, and feta cheese) from the café down the street as soon as it opened, coming back to the dorms and taking a long shower while everyone else was still sleeping. During the week, early practices got in the way since they had to be at the gym at 6.30 AM, but it was his favorite way to start a Saturday or Sunday morning.

Unless, that was, he’d been up till past 3 AM celebrating. His alarm rang barely three hours after he’d gone to bed.

“I fucking hate you,” Chayton moaned from the other side of the room.

Jeremy turned off the alarm. “I hate me too.”

He rolled onto his back and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He yawned, sat up, and then dropped back down to curl himself around his pillow. Fuck running. He could go later with Laila.

He fell back to sleep almost right away and woke up a few hours later to the smell of coffee. Chayton was still snoring in his bed, which meant either Jameal or Jaimie was in the kitchen. The Exy team had the top two floors of the building. Each suite had a small kitchen with basic appliances, a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms with two beds each. As captain, Jameal could have had his own bedroom, but he’d opted out because he liked the company. The four boys had been roommates for a year and a half now, since Jeremy and Jaimie had joined the team.

Jeremy picked up his phone and looked at the time. It was just past 9 AM.

He quickly texted Laila to ask if she was up and felt like going for a run, then went through his notifications. His sister Cassandra had sent him an email, which he marked to read later—after coffee. His sister Cecilia had sent him pictures of her sons in matching sweaters; “how are they so cute??!” he texted back, followed by a string of hearts. He had several messages from other students offering congratulations on last night’s win and asking school-related questions. Ryan from the swim team had mentioned him in five tweets. Laila had tagged in a photo on Instagram. And—

_Oh shit._

—and Kevin Day, blue mark of officiality and all, was now following him on Instagram.

He screenshotted it and sent it to the Trojans group chat, followed by three exclamation points. Words were failing him.

The replies came almost immediately.

**Group chat with the ****Trojans.**  
  
**Jameal**  
Somebody call 911  
  
**Sam**  
OMG Jere are you still breathing??  
  
**Bea**  
hang on jere help is coming  
  
**Oliver**  
What did u do?!  
  
**Jeremy**  
i’m hyperventilating  
  
no i'm fine  
  
i mean i’m freaking out  
  
but i’m fine  
  


He typed his replies quickly, then got up and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he came back to the bedroom, he opened his chat with Laila first.

**Chat with “****Laila****”**  
  
**Laila:** I’m up and sort-of awake but I need coffee first. Can we go running tonight?  
  
WAAAAAIT, WHATTT??  
  
Kevin Day’s following you on Insta???  
  
**Jeremy:** crazy, right??!  
  
we might be back late from the beach  
  
after dinner?  
  
**Laila:** VERY! And alright. I see you also don’t have plans on Saturday night  
  
**Jeremy:** we can be sad and single together ♥  
  


He opened the group chat next. There were several more replies, going from shocked to amused. Apparently, everyone and their brother was aware that he had a celebrity crush on Kevin.

**Group chat with the ****Trojans.**  
  
**Jeremy**  
i feel like i should delete half my pictures  
  
**Sam**  
DON’T YOU DARE  
  
**Shawna**  
Coward LOL  
  
**Oliver**  
Like the one at your parents’ house with a giant poster of Kevin in the background?  
  
**Jeremy**  
SHIT SHIT SHIT  
  
guys what do i do??  
  
**Oliver**  
Too late now. He’s probably already seen it lol  
  
I bet he’s filing a restraining order right now  
  
**Sam**  
OMG JEREMY  
  
**Jeremy**  
i’m gonna text him and explain  
  
**Jameal**  
Don’t draw attention to it  
  
Maybe he didn’t even see it  
  
**Jeremy**  
i’m texting him  
  


Jeremy lay back down in bed, rolled onto his side, and opened his convo with Kevin. He looked at the screen for a few seconds, trying to come up with a casual message even as his mind was spinning.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** thanks for the follow on insta  
  
and whatever pictures you saw… i can explain  
  


He was considering writing something else when a soft _meow_ caught his attention. He turned around: Hector’s eyes were glowing in the semi-darkness of the room. He was looking at Jeremy expectantly. A couple of seconds later, he meowed again and tried, unsuccessfully, to jump on the bed. He was barely two months old and still couldn’t quite jump that high.

Jeremy smiled fondly and picked him up. The kitten rubbed up against his stomach, sneaked in under his t-shirt, then meowed loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hungry. I got you,” Jeremy whispered. “You know Jaimie, Chayton, and Jameal could feed you too, right? I’m not the only one who’s got access to the food.”

Hector untangled himself from Jeremy’s t-shirt, looked at him, and then bumped his face against Jeremy’s wrist.

“‘kay, fine, I’m getting up.” Jeremy pocketed his phone, set Hector back on the floor, put on his glasses, and padded to the kitchen. The kitten followed close behind.

Jameal was leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee and a bagel. “Morning, Knox. Or should I say future Mr. Day?” he said with an amused grin. “Or are you guys going to hyphenate? Day-Knox has a nice ring to it.”

“He followed me on Instagram. Since when does that count as a marriage proposal?” Jeremy pointed at Hector. “Why does he only come to me for food?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks you’re his mom?” Jameal shrugged.

“Yeah, right,” Jeremy said as Hector rubbed against his legs to remind him of his presence. Jeremy fed him, then helped himself to a cup of coffee. He poured milk and sugar into it and took a careful sip.

Jameal was checking something on his phone. “He follows less than fifty people, and none of them are players from rival teams. Except you.”

“It doesn’t mean—” Jeremy started, but a New Message alert distracted him. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he pulled out his phone.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Kevin:** Can you really explain why you have a giant teddy bear in your room?  
  
**Jeremy:** first of all: why not?  
  
second of all: that picture is from a party. not my room & not my teddy bear  
  
(which is sad. i love ted and yes that’s its name)  
  
and last: i’m glad you’re focusing on the teddy bear tbh  
  


Jeremy drank some more coffee. He definitely hadn’t been expecting Kevin to look him up on social media, but texting with him was actually quite comfortable. Much more than he’d thought. Maybe he was just getting used to it, or maybe he was finding out that Kevin was not a demi-god of Exy that existed solely on the court.

**Kevin:** Instead of the 24x36” poster with my face on it you mean? :))  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah that  
  
that’s from high school  
  
it doesn’t count  
  
(is it weird?)  
  
**Kevin:** I’m mostly just flattered.  
  
**Jeremy:** you should be :))  
  


Jeremy finished his coffee and poured himself a new cup. Jameal pushed a brown paper bag towards him, and Jeremy gratefully accepted a bagel.

“What do you guys talk about anyway? Exy?” Jameal asked.

“Not really.” Jeremy shrugged. “Just, stuff. School, weekend plans… We haven’t really texted a lot, to be honest.”

“So he hasn’t asked you to sign with the Ravens for next year, has he?”

Jeremy looked at his captain, surprised. “No. Of course not.” He hadn’t even considered it. He didn’t know Kevin well enough to rule it out, but his gut told him it wasn’t about that. “I don’t think he’s gonna. And even if he did, I’d never transfer to Edgar Allan.”

“Good, because I want to make sure the team’s in good hands when I leave,” Jameal said.

Jeremy was about to ask him what he meant, but just then Kevin texted him again. Apparently, he’d been going through his Instagram pictures.

**Kevin:** I didn’t know you wore glasses.  
  
**Jeremy:** off the court yeah, sometimes  
  
my sister cece says i almost look smart when i’m wearing them  
  
**Kevin:** You have a sister?  
  
**Jeremy:** i have six sisters  
  
**Kevin:** That’s so cool. Well, I’m guessing it is? I don’t really know.  
  


Jeremy smiled, thinking about his sisters. He couldn’t imagine his life without them. Without Cecilia’s daily pictures of her wife and sons. Without Cassandra’s long emails detailing every aspect of her life in New York and asking about his classes and games. Without Justice’s phone calls at odd hours when they never said “Hello” and “Bye,” as if they were still living at home and meeting randomly in the kitchen. Without the long Skype conversations with Ying Yue giving her advice about boys and school, and with Alice Hope, who always wanted to know what his professors were teaching him. And without all the times he’d stayed on the phone with little Avery recently, reading her a bedtime story, so she would get to know him even if he was far away.

His life would be empty without them.

**Jeremy:** most of the time it is yeah  
  
(kidding, i love them all the time. they’re the best. but don’t tell them ahah)  
  
(you know what it’s like with siblings)  
  
**Kevin:** Yeah, I do.  
  


“Practice in 30,” Jameal reminded him.

Jeremy pocketed his phone. “I’ll wake up Chayton. Is Jaimie awake?”

“He’s out. He’ll meet us at the court.”

“Right. He had a date with Taylor.”

While Jameal took a shower, Jeremy finished his breakfast. From where he was standing, he could see Hector playing with the blue stuffed dinosaur Laila had gotten for him. It was his favorite toy, in spite of it being almost as big as he was. Laila had already Instagrammed about five million pictures of Hector playing with Rex, and Jeremy couldn’t blame her.

Hector had been with them for barely a week, but the whole team was already in love with him.

“Wanna come to the court with us?” Jeremy asked.

Hector ignored him completely.

* * *

Jeremy yawned and stretched like a cat as he made his way out of the classroom. He felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by Ryan’s voice. “Mornings are hard.”

“Mhm, yeah,” Jeremy agreed. “You had class?”

“God, no. My brain refuses to work before 10 AM.” His hand was still on Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy found he didn’t mind. “Are you going to the library?”

“Yes, I need to get started on a paper for Political Philosophy,” Jeremy said. “I have no idea what I’m going to write and it’s due in three days. I’d like to get most of it done today so I can have my tutor check it tomorrow morning.”

Ryan was nodding along, looking at him with his green-blue eyes. Looking at his mouth, mostly, Jeremy noticed. Ryan licked his lips, almost certainly on purpose. He had nice lips.

“You know what you need?” Ryan asked. “A big cup of coffee. Let’s go get high on sugar and caffeine and then we can go to the library, what do you think?”

It sounded good to Jeremy.

“Sure, let’s go.”

Ryan moved his hand to the small of Jeremy’s back as they made their way to the coffee shop in front of the library. They ended up ordering an avocado toast for Ryan and a zucchini and mushroom omelet for Jeremy as well two cups of coffee.

“i think i’m sort of on a date with ry??” Jeremy texted Jaimie while Ryan ran after their waiter to make sure there was no mayo in his toast.

**Chat with “****Jaimie****”** ♥  
  
**Jaimie:** WHAT??! How did that happen??? How’s it going??  
  
I need details!!  
  


Jaimie seemed to think punctuation marks would feel lonely if he didn’t use at least two, just like Jeremy was allergic to proper capitalization.

“later @ practice,” Jeremy typed quickly as Ryan slid back into his chair, folding one long leg over the other and leaning forward to be closer to Jeremy.

“Did I tell you what happened last Friday at afternoon practice?” Ryan asked. He didn’t wait for a reply and started telling a long story that ended with their coach falling fully dressed into the swimming pool. He had a way of making everything seem exciting and a sharp sense of humor that Jeremy enjoyed.

After they ate, Jeremy told him about Hector and showed him pictures of his nephews.

“I want, like, ten kids when I grow up,” he said, only half-joking.

“I thought you wanted to go pro after college.”

“Oh, yeah. And then, after I retire, I’m going to adopt ten kids. Or, I don’t know, maybe five.”

Ryan smiled. “I could get on board with that. I’m an only child. I’ve always wanted a brother or a sister.”

“Having siblings is cool,” Jeremy said, bringing the conversation back to a safer topic. It was their first date. Their first _maybe_-date. He didn’t want to discuss anything serious. He wondered if it made him an asshole: Ryan clearly wanted a serious relationship, and Jeremy just wanted something fun. Someone to kiss, someone to share a bed with, someone to do stupid romantic things with. But maybe, in time, he would want more. Or maybe Ryan was just making conversation and wasn’t already picking names for their five children. Maybe Jeremy was overthinking this.

Fuck, he needed to talk to Jaimie. Or, even better, Laila. Laila would listen to all his What ifs without telling him to just fuck Ryan already. Yes, Laila was exactly who he needed.

“I have a competition in San Diego this Saturday morning. I can get you a seat on our bus if you want to come to see me,” Ryan offered.

“I have to check with Jameal: he likes to schedule extra practices on Saturday. I’d love to come if I can.”

Ryan smiled. He had a sweet smile. Maybe Jaimie was right. Maybe he should have some fun with Ryan. Find out how it felt to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, how his voice sounded early in the morning, how he looked with sleepy eyes and bed hair.

He wasn’t Jaimie, but Jeremy could see himself falling in love with him. Maybe. Eventually.

* * *

After breakfast, they actually did go to the library, and Jeremy managed to write a rough first draft of his Political Philosophy paper. It wasn’t his best work, but he still had time to whip it into shape tomorrow with his tutor. He met with a few teammates for lunch, but they left early to go to their afternoon classes. He took his time eating his grilled chicken and baby spinach salad and replied to a few messages. He texted Laila about meeting for coffee after dinner, then went through his pictures. He quickly found the one he was looking for and sent it to Kevin. Chayton had taken it a few weeks ago. It showed a sleeping Jeremy curled up on the court floor, spooning his racquet.

Kevin’s reply came almost immediately:

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Kevin:** You fell asleep during practice??  
  
**Jeremy:** lol no  
  
that picture was taken last month  
  
team party that ended on the court  
  
we weren’t exactly sober  
  
**Kevin:** You don’t say? :))  
  
**Jeremy:** sending the picture to you was actually a dare from a game we played last saturday  
  
so, yeah, sorry about that  
  
i’ll tell the guys to leave you out of it next time  
  


Everybody seemed to think it was a joke, but Jeremy was beginning to see the potential of a beautiful friendship, and he cared about Kevin, not as a celebrity crush but as a real person. Luckily, Kevin didn’t seem to mind the Trojans’ idea of a joke:

**Kevin:** It’s cool. I don’t mind getting silly pictures. This one actually made my day much better.  
  


“everything okay?” Jeremy texted back, a bit unsure if he had the right to ask. They were just acquaintances, and he was certainly one out of dozens of people Kevin texted every day. Then again, Kevin had been the one to mention his day wasn’t going too well. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he simply needed to say everything was okay.

**Kevin:** Yes.  
  


Jeremy started writing something about his History class to change the subject when he saw that Kevin was typing something else. He deleted his message and waited. Kevin stopped, started again, stopped a couple more times, and finally hit Send:

**Kevin:** Just… my aim at morning practice was off for some reason, then I had a fight with a teammate, and I’m just feeling… I don’t know. Anxious? I’m not sure it’s the right word.  
  
It’s nothing, really.  
  


Jeremy was intimately familiar with days like that, with feeling that way, and knew all too well that it wasn’t “nothing.” He didn’t know Kevin well enough to ask him about it, but he didn’t want to let it slide either.

**Jeremy:** anxiety sucks :(  
  
hugs help  
  
(therapy & meds too)  
  
**Kevin:** It’s just an off day.  
  
**Jeremy:** can i try and make it better?  
  
**Kevin:** You don’t have to.  
  


Jeremy thought about it for a moment. It sounded like Kevin didn’t want to bother him, not like he wished Jeremy would leave him alone. “well, tough. i’m gonna,” he texted, before sending a selection of pictures, all of Hector: sleeping on Jeremy’s lap, playing with an Exy ball, in the front pocket of Jeremy’s hoodie, curled up on a red and gold jersey.

**Jeremy:** this is hector. we found him when we came back from winter break and adopted him  
  
like, as a team  
  
we kept him a secret for a couple of days, then came clean to coach r. and got him to sort it out  
  
housing services wasn’t happy about it but whatever  
  
now he’s our unofficial mascot  
  
**Kevin:** Did you name him after Hector of Troy?  
  


Jeremy smiled. He typed a quick, “of course,” then replied to Laila to confirm the time for tonight. He had a few bites of chicken before reading Kevin’s message.

**Kevin:** That’s awesome. He’s really cute.  
  
**Jeremy:** i knew you’d appreciate the name :)  
  
i’ll introduce you when you come to cali for semis  
  


So, yeah, he’d just casually invited Exy legend Kevin Day to his bedroom. Only— Only the more they texted, the more Jeremy realized Kevin was just as real as he was. He didn’t exist solely on the Exy court, he didn’t exist for the cameras. He was on his phone late at night when he was supposed to be sleeping, he loved history and (apparently) mythology, and he had bad days like everyone else.

**Kevin:** I’m looking forward to it  
  
Thank you for the pictures and the conversation. It helped.  
  


Jeremy smiled. He hoped he really did help, at least a little. Sometimes a distraction or a good chat with a friend was enough to shake off some anxiety. “i’m glad i could help :))” he texted back, and then added, “tell riko to give you a big hug” because that was the most effective non-medical cure he knew: a hug from his best friend. It was his favorite too. And it didn’t hurt to try, right?

His phone buzzed with a new message from Kevin, but it was a short one:

**Kevin:** :)  
  


He looked at the time. He had another hour to kill before afternoon practice. He checked the Trojans group chat. Almost the entire striker line was at the stadium already, going over the playbook. Jeremy didn’t really need to brush up, he knew every single play by heart, but he figured he could always help the freshman strikers. Their offensive line was a young one, with only three upperclassmen—a junior and two fifth-years. The rest of the line was evenly divided between freshmen and sophomores. It worked in Jeremy’s favor: it meant he usually got to play the first and last twenty minutes of the game, which he might not have had a chance to do if there had been more experienced strikers. Hell, on a team such as Penn State or Edgar Allan, he might not even be part of the starting line. He was lucky. However, it also meant that there was a lot resting on his shoulders.

He quickly finished his lunch, gathered his things, and headed to the stadium.


	4. Chapter 3: Your Best Friend Is Not Your Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy goes on a date, and somebody is jealous. (It's Hector. Hector is jealous.)

_Your best friend is not your girlfriend_  
_It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts_  
_It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts_  
_Your best friend is not your girlfriend_  
—“Your Best Friend Is Not Your Girlfriend” by Angels & Airwaves

## Chapter 3: Your Best Friend Is Not Your Boyfriend

“So, let me get this straight,” Laila said after a long sip of decaf latte. “There’s Ryan, who is so hot that even I might consider sleeping with him. He’s funny and sweet, not to mention available and very much interested in you. But you’re not sure you want to date him because you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, who is in a committed relationship with a guy you say yourself is good for him.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Jeremy confirmed with a groan. He dropped his head on the table, missing his mug by half an inch.

Laila punched his shoulder. “You’re an idiot, man.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“And how does Kevin Day fit into this?” she asked.

“He doesn’t.” Jeremy straightened up and looked at her. “He’s my… celebrity crush turned almost friend? I don’t know. I guess we’re sort of friends, yeah, or somewhere in that area. But he’s got nothing to do with this.”

She gave him a skeptical look but let it go. “So it’s between the awesome, single guy, and the awesome, unavailable guy?”

“I guess. But it’s not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Jeremy let out a frustrated sigh. He drank some green tea to take time. “Because Ry’s the perfect guy, but Jaimie’s the one I’m in love with, and I don’t think that’s gonna change just because I start dating someone else. So I would feel like an asshole dating Ry because I can tell he really likes me, and I would feel like I’m leading him on. It wouldn’t be fair to him. I don’t want to hurt him.”

He wondered, not for the first time, what his life would look like if he’d made his move on Jaimie last year before Taylor boldly came along to sweep Jaimie off his feet. Jaimie and Taylor had met last February after Jeremy insisted he and Jaimie had lunch with a few guys from the basketball team since every other table was already taken. They’d started dating soon after, and, before the academic year had come to an end, Jaimie had already told Jeremy, “I think I’m in love with him.”

They’d spent a week together in Mexico last summer, and Taylor had been taking ASL classes for the past six months. Jaimie’s eyes lit up when Taylor’s name came up, and Taylor looked at Jaimie like he was the answer to the secrets of the universe. It was sweet. Jeremy would never want to come between them.

Still, what if he and Jaimie had already been dating when Taylor had come along? What if Jeremy had kissed Jaimie that November night of their freshman year, when they’d found themselves alone on the beach late at night, standing close to each other for warmth? What if, a few weeks later, he’d taken Jaimie up on his offer to spend New Year’s together?

But he’d been a mess back then. He would have fucked it up. They would have crashed and burned. Even if they’d survived the winter, the spring and the anniversaries it brought along would have destroyed them.

“You could always be upfront with Ryan and let him decide if he wants to date you anyway,” Laila suggested.

“Is there a non-hurtful way to tell someone who likes you that you’re in love with someone else, but he’s not a bad second choice?” Jeremy crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back.

“Tell him you would like to go on a date with him, but you’re not sure where it would be going because you’re still getting over someone else.”

Laila had a talent for cutting through layer upon layer of unnecessary complications and anxiety-induced worries. Jeremy always felt lighter after talking things over with her. “I’d be lost without you, you know?”

“I do. I do know.” She smiled. “Now, do you want to share a brownie, or should we be responsible athletes and order bran muffins?”

“Sunday’s cheat day, so—”

“—we’re gonna pretend it’s Sunday?”

“—so I’m gonna go get us a couple of bran muffins. _Palmam qui meruit ferat_,” finished Jeremy, quoting USC’s motto. _Let whoever earns the palm bear it_. That is: work hard to accomplish your goals. Sometimes working hard meant saying no to brownies with ice cream, no matter how good they were.

Laila sighed. “What if we _run_ back to the dorms?”

“I’m wearing my second tightest pair of jeans. We’re not running anywhere.” He got up and made his way to the counter, fingertips brushing over the back of her neck to tuck in the tag of her off-white sweater.

“Please, Jeremy? One tiny brownie?”

He was walking backwards towards the counter, smiling at Laila’s pleading eyes and shaking his head no, when he bumped into something.

No, not something. _Someone._

He felt strong hands on his hips. He turned around, already apologizing to whoever he’d crushed into. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t— Oh, hi, Ry.”

“Hey, Jere. We keep running into each other today. Quite literally, too. I swear I’m not stalking you,” Ryan said, his smiling face inches away from Jeremy’s.

Jeremy took a half step back, putting barely enough distance between them to make a difference. He didn’t mind the closeness at all, and apparently, neither did Ryan since he didn’t move.

“I was actually just thinking about you,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah?” Ryan’s smile grew wider. “Good things, I hope?”

Jeremy craned his neck up to look at him in the eye. “Would you like to go out with me sometime? On a date, I mean.” He didn’t give the other guy time to say anything and went on. He could tell that Ryan couldn’t wait to say yes, but he wanted him to have all the facts first. “I— I have to be honest, Ry: I’m kind of still getting over someone else, and I completely understand if you don’t want to get mixed up in that.”

Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but Jeremy interrupted him again. “I promise I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t genuinely like you. I know I’ve been giving you mixed signals, and I’m sorry about it. It’s been a confusing time. I’m trying to get past that. I’d really like to go on a date with you.”

“Can I talk?” Ryan asked.

Jeremy smiled bashfully. “Yes. Sorry. I get chatty when I’m nervous.”

“That’s cute. And I kinda like that I make you nervous. Is that okay? But to answer your question, yes, I would like to go on a date with you.” Ryan pulled out his phone to check his calendar. “How’s Thursday night?”

“Yeah, I’m free. I should be done with practice at seven-thirty.”

“Me too.”

“I can pick you up at the swimming pool a little after eight?”

“Make it half-past.” Ryan laughed softly. “This doesn’t happen in thirty minutes,” he explained, pointing at his hair. It was long on top, shorter to the sides, and carefully styled to look messy.

“Worth the wait.” Jeremy smiled. “I don’t really have a plan for the night right now, but I will think of something nice we can do,” he added before they could start the awkward dance where neither of them knew who should plan the date. “Do you like to dance?”

Ryan nodded. “Love it.”

“Great. Dinner first, then we can go dancing.”

* * *

After his tutoring session, Jeremy went back to the dorms. He had an hour before afternoon practice, and he wanted to call his twin sister to catch up. Chayton was reading a book on the couch, so he retreated to the bedroom and sprawled out on his bed. Hector joined him almost right away and happily curled up against his side for warmth.

Justice didn’t pick up when he called. She texted him a few seconds later to tell him she was in class.

“My sister’s busy,” he told Hector.

He decided to text Kevin to check on him.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hey, feeling better today?  
  


He hit Send before overthinking it, then put down his phone and turned on his side. Hector snuggled closer, and Jeremy smiled. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment and might have fallen asleep if a buzz hadn’t announced a new message. Hector was startled by the sound and jumped into action, attacking the phone.

“My hero,” Jeremy said, laughing. He picked up the kitten and looked at the new text. It was from Kevin.

**Kevin:** yes  
  


“i’m glad to hear it,” he typed back. He held Hector close to his chest and snapped a selfie, which he sent Kevin.

**Jeremy:** hector says hi  
  
**Kevin:** Hi back :)  
  
Do you allow him to sleep with you?  
  


Jeremy had been the one to find Hector on the day they’d come back to USC for the new semester. He’d spent most of that first evening holding the kitten and feeding him with a bottle. Jaimie had made a bed for him in the living room with a pillow and a soft blanket, but Hector had started meowing the moment he was left alone. Jeremy had been able to ignore him for a full four minutes before going back to the living room for him. His roommates had called him weak, but he knew they were twenty seconds away from doing the same thing even if they’d never admit it. Hector had slept in his bed that night and every night since.

**Jeremy:** “allow” implies i had a choice in the matter, but yes, my bed is now his bed  
  
**Kevin:** Sounds nice.  
  
**Jeremy:** it is :)  
  


Jeremy gently scratched the top of the kitten’s head with the tip of his fingers and was rewarded by a soft purring. “I think Kevin Day would like to cuddle you too,” he told Hector.

* * *

It was late when Jeremy came back from his date with Ryan, and the lights were off in both bedrooms. Hector greeted him with a displeased meow, clearly unhappy that his human hadn’t come back home at the usual time. Jeremy gave him a quick cuddle on the way to his room and placed him on the bed. He toed off his shoes, changed into his PJs, and padded to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He was about to turn off his bedside lamp after getting under the covers when he heard footsteps from the other room. A few moments later, Jaimie came in and went to sit on Jeremy’s bed.

“Hey, how did it go?” he asked.

Jeremy backed against the wall to make space for him on the bed, and Jaimie lay down next to him.

“Good. I mean—Yeah, good,” he signed.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He sighed. “I had fun, and we spent the last thirty minutes making out in the car.”

“But?”

_But he’s not you._

He couldn’t say that, and he hated it, having to lie to his best friend, even if it was the right thing to do. He looked up at the ceiling like he expected or at least hoped to find the answer there.

“He’s hot. I would sleep with him in a heartbeat. And I love hanging out with him as friends. He’s great. I just—I don’t think I want to date him,” he told Jaimie eventually. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s how I feel.”

“So, you’re just not feeling it?”

Jaimie brushed the back of his fingers over Jeremy’s arm while Jeremy shrugged. Hector tried a couple of times to push Jaimie’s hand away with his tiny paw, then looked at Jeremy and meowed loudly.

Jeremy laughed softly, then looked at Jaimie. “I don’t think he likes you very much.”

“He likes me fine, but he _loves_ you, and he’s jealous of you. He sat next to the door all night waiting for you, you know?”

“Now I feel guilty.” Jeremy scratched Hector’s head.

“What are you going to tell Ryan?” Jaimie asked eventually.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy admitted. He would have to think about it, but it could wait till tomorrow. Right now, he couldn’t think clearly. He could still feel Ryan’s lips on his, the weight of his hands on his back under his shirt, the warmth of his body against his. And then there was Jaimie’s head on the pillow next to his, his hand (so strong and yet so elegant) now resting casually on Jeremy’s side, their knees touching through the blankets.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow, now get some sleep,” Jaimie signed, apparently realizing that Jeremy wasn’t going to add anything else. He kissed Jeremy’s cheek and Hector’s head before getting up.

Jeremy watched him walk out of the room, then turned off the light.

He was so fucking screwed.

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** OMG KEVIN  
  
THAT ACTION  
  
spectacular! i almost had an exy-gasm  
  
you’re a god on that court  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you, Jeremy!  
  
I worked a lot on perfecting that type of shot. It finally paid off!  
  


Jeremy had stayed up late the night before to watch the Ravens play and had gone straight to bed as soon as the game had ended, so Kevin’s replies had come when he was already asleep. He messaged him back the next morning while he waited for his roommates to be ready so they could head to the gym for morning practice. Kevin texted him back right away.

**Jeremy:** i’m gonna watch it on repeat for five hours today  
  
**Kevin:** Or you could practice for five hours and be a bit closer to do the same soon.  
  
**Jeremy:** us mere mortals cannot hope to land that kind of shot  
  
**Kevin:** It’s a matter of practicing. A lot. And then practicing some more. You could get there. You’re good, you have great instincts.  
  


“Kevin Day says I’m good,” Jeremy announced to his roommates as they walked out of the room together. “Like, at playing Exy.”

“You are,” Jameal confirmed. “Is that news to you? You’re the starting striker of one of the best three college teams in the country. Of course you’re good.”

“Yes, but _Kevin Day_ said that.”

His friends _had_ to know that it was completely different. He knew he was good. Up until now, he hadn’t thought he was good by Kevin Day’s standards. Number two in the country, Future of Exy, Court-bound Kevin Day.

Chayton patted his back as they quickly climbed down the stairs. “If you’re good by Kevin Day’s standards, what does that make me? The guy who daily gets in the way of you scoring?”

“Yeah, it’s not me you have to stop. Let’s see how you play against Riko in a few weeks, then we’ll ask Jean Moreau if you’re worthy of the Perfect Court,” Jeremy retorted.

“Worthy of the Perfect Court?” Jameal laughed. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself there, Knox.”

“I wasn’t saying _I_ am worthy of it, I was just—” Jeremy got into the passenger seat of Jaimie’s car, then turned to the backseat to look at Jameal. “—I was just saying that we should ask a _backliner_ what he thinks of Chayton, and Moreau’s one of the best in the country.”

Jaimie put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the car. “If Kevin’s giving out his teammates’ phone numbers, I call dibs on Riko’s.”

“You have a boyfriend, and Riko’s straight,” Jeremy reminded him.

“And Kevin isn’t?”

“It doesn’t matter that he is because I’m not trying to get into his pants. I’m just flattered and happy that he thinks I’m good.”

“Maybe he’s the one who’s trying to get into your pants,” Chayton suggested. Jeremy threw an empty fast-food container at him.

They all laughed, but as Jaimie started the car and backed out of the parking spot, Jameal leaned forward and squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “You should be happy. And when we’re not teasing you about it, we’re all proud of you and maybe a little bit jealous,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Jameal and Chayton started bickering over whose turn it was to go grocery shopping, and Jeremy sent Kevin a new message:

**Jeremy:** i wish i could learn from you  
  
**Kevin:** I don’t know if I would be any good as a teacher, but I’d love to try one day.  
  
**Jeremy:** coach day has a nice ring to it :))  
  


* * *

Jeremy spent Saturday night on Laila’s bed watching games Penn State had played during the fall season. They took notes, talked about strategies to beat them, and got teased by Laila’s roommates for being Exy nerds.

“This was fun,” he said as he got up. “But we’re going out next weekend.”

Laila turned off her laptop. “We should go to The Library. The gay club, not the actual library. I’m a nerd, but even I refuse to study on a Saturday night.”

“You sure?” Jeremy smiled. “But yeah, we should. You know, I haven’t been there since last semester.”

“Shame on you, man!”

“I know. Hey, we should invite Jaimie and Taylor.”

She looked at him pointedly. “Why? So you can spend the night pining over Jaimie while he makes out with his boyfriend, instead of dancing with hot people and having fun?”

She had a point.

“Alright, no Jaimie, just us,” he agreed. “You’ll be my wingwoman?”

“Of course.” She smiled. “But if we like the same girl, you’re on your own.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t dare try to compete with you, Lay Lay,” he said. He kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his sweater. “Night, Jere.”

The living room was empty when Jeremy got back. Jameal was spending the weekend at his girlfriend’s house, Chayton was still out, and Jaimie was holed up in his room with Taylor. The door was closed, and Jeremy decided not to knock. Getting a whole night alone with your boyfriend or girlfriend was a rare luxury on campus.

He padded into his room and found Hector curled up on his pillow. Apparently, the kitten had finally learned how to jump onto the bed. Jeremy felt proud for some reason. He snapped a few pictures, then sat on the bed cross-legged.

He almost texted Laila but then decided to tell her tomorrow in person. Instead, he sent Kevin a picture.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** guess i’m sleeping on the floor tonight  
  
**Kevin:** No Criminology students willing to share their bed with you?  
  


Jeremy smiled. He didn’t think Kevin would remember that story he’d told him. He petted Hector, who purred softly at the touch, then typed:

**Jeremy:** if only!  
  
been too busy with exy  
  
you know what it’s like  
  


Did he? Did Kevin know what it was like? Being busy, sure, of course. But maybe Jeremy was making a big assumption that he wasn’t dating anyone either. Just because it wasn’t public knowledge, it didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. Maybe Kevin was with his girlfriend right now. Maybe—

**Kevin:** I do! Well, at least you’ve got Hector.  
  


—Maybe Jeremy was just overthinking this as usual. He looked at the red kitten still curled up on his pillow and replied:

**Jeremy:** true :))  
  



	5. Chapter 4: Don’t Want You to Ignore Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy has a fight with his best friend over Kevin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: panic attack

_Can you see that I am needing_  
_Begging for so much more_  
_Than you could ever give_  
_And I don't want you to adore me_  
_Don't want you to ignore me_  
_When it pleases you_  
_And I'll do it on my own_  
—“Muscle Museum” by Muse

## Chapter 4: Don’t Want You to Ignore Me

Monday came, as usual, too soon, and Jeremy found himself in class, stifling yawn after yawn and trying to pay attention to what the teacher was saying. Thankfully, he’d managed to snag a seat in the back. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and texted Kevin.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** i’d just like to point out that it’s monday morning, it’s RAINING, and i could be in bed  
  
instead i’m in class learning about the egyptian empire  
  
**Kevin:** Well, aren’t you a lucky guy?  
  
**Jeremy:** shut up  
  
i blame you  
  


The girl sitting next to him stopped doodling and started taking notes, and Jeremy followed her example. He jotted down a few names and dates, as well as the title of a book the teacher recommended for getting a more comprehensive idea of what life was like back in 3000 BCE. He added a question mark next to it because he wasn’t sure he would have time to do extra reading for a class that wasn’t even technically part of his major. It was interesting enough, but he couldn’t wait to get to Ancient Greece.

The teacher paused to find an image on his laptop, and Jeremy checked his phone.

**Kevin:** You would’ve been up anyway. Don’t you have morning practice at USC?  
  
**Jeremy:** of course. but then i would’ve gone straight back to bed  
  
**Kevin:** Rain makes you cranky. Noted.  
  
:))  
  


He smiled: Kevin wasn’t wrong, and it was kind of cool that he’d noticed, especially since all he had to work on were a few texts.

He typed his replies quickly while the teacher turned on the projector and connected it to his laptop.

**Jeremy:** it shouldn’t bother me  
  
i’m from seattle, i should be used to it, right?  
  
but apparently not anymore  
  
i’ve been living in l.a. for too long  
  
**Kevin:** Do you have any more classes today?  
  
**Jeremy:** political philosophy at 2  
  
what about you?  
  
**Kevin:** My 9AM class was canceled. I’ve got a tutoring session in a bit and then I’ll probably get some extra time on the court.  
  
**Jeremy:** lucky you!  
  


The teacher started speaking again, so Jeremy put his phone down. The girl to his left was drawing dragons on the corner of her notepad; the one to his right was reading _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ under the table. He sighed and tried to focus.

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** how’re you feeling?  
  
it sounded like you had a cold in post-game interviews last night  
  
**Kevin:** Yeah, it’s nothing. I’ll be okay. But thank you for checking on me.  
  
**Jeremy:** get some rest this weekend  
  
you deserve it after last night’s win  
  
**Kevin:** I’ll try.  
  


* * *

It was Monday morning, and Jeremy was sitting in the hall of the Organic Chemistry building waiting for Laila to get out of class so they could get lunch together. He took a selfie and posted it on Instagram—captioning it “waiting for my girl @lailaaah”—then decided to check on Kevin.

If the Ravens kept a similar schedule to the Trojans, he could probably catch Kevin before afternoon practice.

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** feeling any better? :)  
  
**Kevin:** Not really. I’m actually glad there are no games this week. Practice is draining enough.  
  
**Jeremy:** you should skip practice and stay in bed if you’re not feeling well  
  
fuck, now i sound like my mom  
  
but you should  
  
**Kevin:** It takes more than a bad cold to keep me away from the court.  
  


Jeremy knew what that was like. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shown up to practice once or twice while running a low fever, or tried to talk Coach Rhemann into letting him play with a sprained wrist last year. It was easy to tell others to rest and heal, not so much to do it yourself.

The door to his right banged open and students started walking out of the classroom. Jeremy typed a quick “feel better soon!!” and then got up to look for Laila.

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin Day”**  
  
**Jeremy:** how’s your cold?  
  
**Kevin:** Almost gone.  
  
**Jeremy:** that’s good news!!  
  
**Kevin:** Yes, finally!  
  


Jeremy felt a light tap on his arm and looked up from the screen.

“Who are you texting?” Jaimie asked him.

Jeremy pocketed his phone. “No one,” he replied a bit too quickly. Then he admitted: “Kevin.”

Jaimie didn’t reply and went back to eating his lunch.

“What?” Jeremy asked a minute later.

Jaimie shrugged. “You’ve been texting him a lot lately, that’s all.”

“Not really.”

He hadn’t, had he? He thought about it. He’d probably sent more texts to Laila in the past two hours than to Kevin in the last week. Which didn’t mean much since he and Laila texted constantly, but still.

“I was only checking on him. He had a cold,” he told Jaimie.

“Life-threatening,” Jaimie signed drily.

“What’s the matter?” Jeremy asked, but Jaimie was making it a point to keep his eyes glued to his plate and not look at him. Jaimie only did that when he was angry or hurt.

Or, Jeremy realized, a little of both: jealous. He touched his friend’s shoulder and waited for him to look up. Jaimie let a few more seconds go by, but then he looked at Jeremy. There was a harshness in his eyes that Jeremy didn’t see often. Not directed at him.

“Kevin and I—”

“Oh, it’s ‘Kevin and I’ now?”

“Kevin and I,” Jeremy started again, looking sternly at Jaimie now. “—are sort-of friends, and we occasionally text about History and Exy. That’s it.”

Jaimie held his gaze. “History. A class you’re taking because of him.”

His words were accusatory and Jeremy got defensive. “I’m not. History and Philosophy are connected.”

“Whatever. You smile a lot when you text him and you’ve had a crush on him since forever. I just hope you know that he doesn’t actually care about you. He’s Kevin Day. He’s being polite.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy signed. He got up and pocketed his phone. “That makes me feel really great about myself. I’m really lucky to have a friend like you who doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

He grabbed his tray with whatever was left of his lunch, and went to drop it in the trash. Clipped movements, tense muscles. His eyes were burning but he refused to let any tears fall. It wasn’t even about Kevin. He’d known him for a month, it wasn’t like he had any illusions that Kevin spent his evenings thinking about him and braiding friendship bracelets. It was more about Jaimie saying those things to hurt him.

Alright, maybe it was a little about Kevin, too. He cared about him, not as his celebrity crush but as—yeah, as a friend. It hurt to think that Kevin might not care about him at all.

A familiar touch on his shoulder: Jaimie.

Jeremy didn’t walk away but didn’t turn around either. He wasn’t sure he wanted to face him right now. But when Jaimie gently took him by the arm and spun him around, he didn’t resist. He looked down, then finally at his friend.

“I’m sorry,” Jaimie signed.

“It was a really shitty thing to say. Have I been ignoring you to text him?”

“No.” For a moment, Jeremy thought Jaimie was going to deny being jealous, but, instead, Jaimie signed: “He’s Kevin Day, and you’ve been talking about him a lot, and smiling at your phone, and… I don’t know, I got jealous. I hate the thought of having to share you. I know you have other friends, but this feels different.”

“I get being insecure. You know I do. But you’re my best friend and you have no reason to feel threatened by him. More importantly, you shouldn’t be trying to hurt me. It’s not fair. Especially since you’re the one with the boyfriend.”

It slipped out. Just like that.

_Shit._

“What does Taylor have to do with anything?” Jaimie asked.

They looked at each other. They were standing barely a foot apart. It would have been so easy to close the distance between them, grab the collar of Jaimie’s sweater, pull him down and kiss him. Show him what Taylor had to do with it all. Show him which one of them had reasons to be jealous and why.

So, so easy.

He almost did it.

But he took a step back instead. “Nothing. I don’t know why I said that. I need to—I need to be alone for a bit, talk to Laila or something. I—I’ll see you later. I can’t have this conversation right now.”

Jaimie was standing between him and the exit. He circled past him, hoping Jaimie would let him go but still feeling disappointed when he did. He wanted to be alone, but he also wanted Jaimie to care. He wanted Jaimie to understand that he needed space right now, but he also wanted Jaimie to fight for him. Go after him.

He felt like Jaimie was leaving him behind even though he was the one walking away.

He walked quickly, almost blindly. He could’ve trampled half the school and he wouldn’t have realized it. His legs brought him to the dorm as if on auto-pilot. He pushed past a couple of football players and got into the elevator. He felt like there was no air even though he must have been breathing. With his back against the wall, he let himself slide down to the floor. The doors closed automatically but the elevator didn’t move.

Had he pushed the button? Was he still on the ground floor, or was he upstairs already?

He couldn’t remember.

He fumbled blindly with his phone. His hands were shaking, and the screen was blurry. (Had he been crying? He hadn’t realized he’d been crying.) Somehow, he still managed to find the app he needed. He pressed his forehead against his bent knee. A deep voice coming from his phone started counting breaths for him, and he did his best to focus on it.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Jaimie probably hated him. Why had he mentioned Taylor? Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? Jaimie was going to walk out on him, and they would never be friends again.

_Inhale. Exhale._

No, Jaimie would never do that. Or would he? If Jeremy’s own father hadn’t stayed, why would Jaimie?

_Inhale. Exhale._

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up bad.

_Inhale. Exhale._

He heard the doors open with a whirring sound. Footsteps. Firm hands on his arms.

“Jere?”

Laila’s voice. Her hand now rubbing his back. Her thigh pressed against his.

Solid.

Slowly, his mind cleared. The tightness in his chest melted away, replaced by a quiet weariness.

“Okay,” he whispered, voice still strained. He rubbed his face against the sleeve of his hoodie to dry his tears, then opened his eyes. The world was steady again. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Laila echoed. “Better?”

He nodded.

The elevator doors slid half-way close, stopped suddenly, opened again. Laila had dropped her bag between them to keep them from sliding shut.

“Bedroom?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Sam’s in their room. Should I get them, or can you walk?” she said.

“I can walk.”

He let Laila help him to his feet and braced himself against the wall. He left his backpack on the floor for Laila to deal with and stumbled out of the elevator. He leaned against the wall while he waited for Laila to gather their things and step out of the elevator. Once her arm was around his waist once more, he let her lead him to his room. The panic attack was over but he still felt slightly dizzy from it.

He sat on the couch, drank from the glass of water Laila put in his hands a few moments later, and then toed his shoes off and lay down.

The world didn’t feel real.

Laila was texting someone, and he could tell it was about him from the way she kept looking at him in between words.

Sara? Sam?

No, Jeremy realized. “Jaimie?”

“Yes. He texted me ten minutes ago to ask me to check on you.”

_Of course._ Laila hadn’t just happened to be there at the right time, she’d come looking for him.

She took a seat and let Jeremy rest his legs across her lap. She rubbed his knee gently. “How’re you feeling, Jerebear?”

Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have allowed the nickname. The only people who could call him that and get away with it were his older sisters, and only because they’d been doing it his entire life. But right now, it was comforting.

“I’m okay. I just need ten minutes to shake it off.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he said, but then he started talking about it anyway. “I had a fight with Jaimie.”

“He told me.” She unlocked her phone and held it out to him. “You should read these.”

**Chat with “****Jaimie”**  
  
**Jaimie:** 911  
  
Can you check on Jeremy??  
  
**Laila:** K  
  
**Jaimie:** I think he’s going to the dorms  
  
**Laila:** K  
  
**Jaimie:** We had a fight  
  
I fucked up  
  
I was an asshole  
  
Did you find him???  
  
Is he okay??  
  
Laila??!  
  
Text me back  
  
**Laila:** Found him  
  
**Jaimie:** How is he??  
  
**Laila:** He’s okay now. We’re in his room  
  
**Jaimie:** Should I come over??  
  
**Laila:** IDK man. Maybe not if you were a jerk to him?  
  
I’m staying with him so don’t worry, k?  
  
**Jaimie:** Okay. Tell him I’m sorry??  
  
**Laila:** Tell him yourself later  
  


Jeremy read the conversation, then handed the phone back to her. “I’m gonna text him,” he said. He had about fifteen messages from Jaimie. He didn’t read them. He’d deal with them later.

**Chat with “****Jaimie****”** ♥  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m okay. thank you for texting laila. we’ll talk later. i don’t feel like thinking about it right now  
  


He felt his phone buzz as soon as he put it down, and he knew it was Jaimie. He ignored it for now. He nudged Laila with his foot. “Hey? Thank you for being my knight in shiny armor.”

“You basically slew the dragon on your own. I just picked you up from the floor after.” She ran her hand up and down his leg. “You’re looking better. More like yourself.”

“I feel better.” He felt on solid ground once again. He was tired (practice was going to be tough!) but he was okay. He could even think clearly again. “It wasn’t Jaimie’s fault. It was like, forty percent him, twenty percent me, and forty percent my anxiety. He said one shitty thing and then I kind of overreacted. I told him I needed space, I left, and then I had a panic attack because he didn’t come after me.”

“He should have.”

“I told him to leave me alone.”

“I would’ve still tried and he should have too.”

Jeremy knew she meant it. Ever since he’d told her about what his father had done, she’d made sure to stay, even if they had a fight. No one else did that for him.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. I mean, yeah, he should have, but it’s not really his fault. They’re my issues, you know? Like, I agree with you, but I also see why he didn’t do it. So, yeah, I don’t know.” He sat up. “It’s fine, really. We’ll talk about it later and we’re gonna be fine.”

She nodded and squeezed his knee. “Good. But just so you know, I would’ve totally kicked his ass for you if you’d asked.”

“I know.” Jeremy smiled.

“There it is.” She brushed her thumb over his lips. “That special smile that melts hearts and puts sexualities in question.”

“Not you too, I hope?” he said with a mock-gasp.

“Never! My lesbianism is a dogma. An axiom. A fundamental law of the universe itself.”

He laughed. “Are you saying reality itself would collapse if you hooked up with a guy?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” She kept a straight face somehow. “Also, _eww_.”

Jeremy let their easy banter smooth down the tension he still felt and soothe his anxious mind. He loved Jaimie, but Laila was his safe harbor. She reminded him of his sisters sometimes: fiercely protective like Cece, perceptive like Cass, wild like Ying Yue. Jaimie was his best friend; Laila was family. He wasn’t sure he would’ve survived his freshman year without her.

“Do you think Kevin cares about me? Like, at all?” he asked eventually. “Like, on a scale of one to ten, where one is a random person he’s never met and ten is Riko, where am I?”

“I don’t know, man.” She shrugged then turned the question back on him: “Where is he on your scale? One is any player from Penn State; ten is the best person in your life, aka me. Where’s Kevin Day?”

Jeremy thought about it. Ten was family; nine close friends; eight other friends and old friends from Seattle he didn’t see much anymore. “A seven, I guess? Six and a half? I don’t know. Like, I care, but I’ve known him for a month.”

“There. He probably feels the same about you.”

“You think so? Jaimie said he probably doesn’t care about me.”

“Forget what Jaimie said. He doesn’t believe it either, and if he does, then he’s wrong.” She looked him in the eye. “He texts you at weird times when he should be sleeping, asks about your cat, tells you when he’s having a bad day. That sounds like a friend to me.”

Jeremy nodded. She was right. Of course she was right. “Thank you for being the voice of reason.”

“Always.”

“We should go, or we’re gonna be late for practice.”

“Feeling up for it?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’m still a bit, like, _bleagh_, but I’ll manage.” He got up and, as soon as she did the same, pulled her into a hug. “You’re the best, Lay Lay.”

She hugged him back, burying her face into his chest. “I know, Jerebear.”

“Don’t push it.”

She laughed against him, and for the first time since lunch, Jeremy felt properly okay.

* * *

Jeremy was sitting with his back against the headboard, knees bent, and Hector curled up in the front pocket of his hoodie. Jaimie, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, was nursing a cup of coffee. Jameal and Chayton were watching a movie in the other room, so it was just the two of them.

They needed to talk, but neither of them seemed to know how to start.

Jaimie had apologized in the locker room before practice. Jeremy had told him they were okay, but when Jaimie had tried to hug him, he’d added, “Not _that_ okay.” Their teammates had noticed they weren’t in synch, and so had Coach Rhemann, who, after practice, had told them in no uncertain terms that he didn’t care what happened between them, they needed to get their act together before the next game.

And here they were. Not because their coach told them to or because the team needed it, but because they both wanted to get past it. And maybe that alone was enough, but there were things that needed to be said.

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” Jaimie signed eventually after putting his mug down on the floor.

Jeremy quickly dismissed it. “It’s fine.”

“Laila disagrees.”

“Laila’s overprotective. It’s my panic attack, and I say it’s fine. I told you to leave me alone, and you did. You asked Laila to check on me. It’s not on you, it’s on—I don’t know. Let’s say it’s on Henry for giving me abandonment issues in the first place, okay?”

Jaimie accepted it with a nod, but still replied: “Then can I at least say I hate that it happened?” He waited for Jeremy to nod his acknowledgment before going on. “And I shouldn’t have said that Kevin doesn’t care about you. I know how much you care about all of your friends, and he shouldn’t be any different just because he’s Kevin Day. For what it’s worth, I think one of the smartest moves he ever made was giving you his phone number, and I’m sure he appreciates you and cares about you. I don’t know why I said that he doesn’t. I honestly don’t know. I got jealous, and I can’t explain it because you know I’ve never been jealous of Laila or Chayton or anyone else.”

“I know,” Jeremy agreed right away, but then he was quiet for a few moments to gather his thoughts. “I don’t care about that. I’ve already forgiven you for that,” he told Jaimie eventually. “I just hate that you said it to hurt me.”

“Me too.”

Jaimie looked down at his hands. Jeremy tipped his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

He wasn’t a stranger to saying stupid things and then regretting it; just this morning, he’d thrown Taylor in Jaimie’s face before he could stop himself. He also knew that Jaimie didn’t want to see him hurt.

Jaimie’s hand wrapped around Jeremy’s ankle, and Jeremy opened his eyes.

“How do I make it better?” Jaimie asked.

He looked heartbroken about it; it was enough to make Jeremy forgive him instantly. “We’re good. It’s forgiven and forgotten. Let’s hug it out?”

Jaimie maneuvered around Jeremy’s legs and pulled him into a careful hug. Jeremy buried his face in the crook of his neck and wrapped his arms around him. He would’ve pulled Jaimie on top of him if Hector hadn’t been sleeping inside his hoodie.

“I still wish I could take it back,” Jaimie signed as soon as they pulled apart.

“I know. But we’re okay. I promise. I said some stupid stuff, too.” Jeremy really didn’t want to get into why he’d mentioned Taylor, so he quickly moved on. “To be honest, I was feeling kind of on edge already. I wouldn’t have reacted that badly on a good day. Thank you for texting Laila.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better. I need a full night of sleep, and then I’ll be as good as new.”

Jeremy felt Hector move against his stomach. A few seconds later, the kitten emerged from his pocket and went to play with an Exy ball by Jeremy’s feet.

“If Housing Services complains again, I’m gonna get him registered as my emotional support pet,” he told Jaimie. “I’m honestly doing better since we’ve adopted him. I haven’t touched my Xanax in three weeks. Today was bad, but it’s been the exception.”

Jamie smiled. “I think the feeling is mutual. Look at him. He’s doing so good.”

Jeremy bent forward and gave the ball a gentle push. Hector looked at it, sharply focused on the way it was moving. He was completely still for a few moments, then suddenly jumped at the ball. The two boys laughed.

“We should start him next year,” Jaimie joked.

“Cutest backliner in the world.”

“Backliner?”

“Yes. I’d drop my racquet, sit down on the floor and spend the entire game cuddling him,” Jeremy signed. “I’d be useless.”

Jaimie laughed. “Yeah, you would be.”

Jeremy’s phone buzzed: it was a message from Laila asking how his conversation with Jaimie went. “we’re all good,” he typed back, adding a couple of smiley faces for good measure.

“Kevin?” Jaimie’s expression was interested, not accusing, which Jeremy found was quite an improvement from this morning.

“Laila.”

Jaimie nodded. “How’s his cold anyway?”

Jeremy could tell that he didn’t really care, but he was trying and that was enough. “Better. Almost gone.”

“Good. Hopefully, _Riko_ didn’t catch it.” He smirked in challenge.

Jeremy laughed and hit him with his pillow, startling Hector, who immediately jumped to hide between Jeremy’s legs. “Aw, sorry, H.” Jeremy gave him a quick cuddle to apologize.

“You hit me and you apologize to him?” Jaimie asked.

“He likes Kevin better than Riko.”

Jaimie rolled his eyes. “One, unfair. And two, what do you even see in Kevin anyway? He’s an asshole in every single interview. No, don’t look at me like that. I’m seriously asking. Is he an asshole to you too?”

“Of course not. He’s a bit—dry in interviews, maybe, yeah. Riko’s more of an audience pleaser. Kevin’s honest. He snaps at journalists sometimes, but only when they ask him stupid questions. When we text, he’s nice. He’s not his public persona, he’s—I don’t know, different. Softer?”

“Soft is about the last word I’d use to describe Kevin Day.”

“Well, I’m probably biased. He said Hector’s cute and my heart pretty much melted,” Jeremy admitted. “And who knows? Maybe, in private, Riko’s the asshole.”

“That idea kind of turns me on actually. I wouldn’t mind some light BDSM.”

“TMI!”

Jeremy laughed and tried really, really hard not to picture Jaimie in bondage gear.


	6. Chapter 5: Someone Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Kevin trust each other with confidential information, and Kevin helps Jeremy make an important decision.

_You know that I could use somebody_  
_You know that I could use somebody_  
_Someone like you, and all you know, and how you speak_  
—“Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon

## Chapter 5: Someone Like You

Jeremy’s head was spinning when he came out of Rhemann’s office that afternoon. He’d figured his coach wanted to give him a pep talk in preparation for their first championship deathmatch next week. Or, maybe, to tell him he needed to step up his game or do a better job at tutoring the freshman strikers. He’d even considered his coach might want to talk to him about his fight with Jaimie from a few days ago. Their synchronicity had helped them win many games last fall, so it would have made sense.

He hadn’t been expecting this. Not at all.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it: Rhemann wanted him to be _captain_ next year.

_Captain._

He couldn’t even talk to Laila or Jaimie about it since he’d promised Rhemann to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. Jameal was the only one who knew about it since he’d helped their coach decide who should replace him. However, Rhemann had suggested that Jeremy think about it for a bit before talking to Jameal. He’d told Jeremy he could go to Jameal for questions and even for advice before making a final decision, but he should sit on it for a couple of days first. Make up his own mind.

Since he couldn’t talk to his teammates, Jeremy called his twin sister instead: Justice picked up on the third ring, and he sat on the bench in the inner court for an hour talking to her.

When he hung up, he felt better but still had no idea what to do. He and Justice had played Exy together in high school, but she wasn’t playing anymore, so she didn’t get the demands of college Exy the way his teammates would.

There was one person who knew what it was like and who wasn’t a Trojan: Kevin. Jeremy wondered if his coach would be okay with it. He had specifically told Jeremy to keep it from the rest of the team, but he hadn’t mentioned family or friends. Jeremy felt that he could trust Kevin. Just like he wasn’t going to tell the press that Kevin Day had anxiety, he trusted Kevin not to tell anyone about this.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** can i ask you an exy question?  
  


He hit Sent, then stared at the screen. He hoped Kevin wasn’t busy right now. He really needed to talk it out some more.

Three dots: Kevin was typing. Barely a second later, his reply came through:

**Kevin:** Of course.  
  
**Jeremy:** if coach moriyama offered you the captain position, would you take it?  
  
**Kevin:** Riko’s captain.  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah, but hypothetically?  
  
**Kevin:** “Hypothetically”… like Rhemann asked you?  
  


Direct and straight to the point. Kevin didn’t do vague, apparently. No gray area.

Alright. Whatever. It wasn’t like that “hypothetically” was fooling anyone.

**Jeremy:** for next year, yes. jameal is graduating and we’ll need a new captain  
  
**Kevin:** That’s awesome that Rhemann asked you. Congratulations!!  
  
You should take it. I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful captain.  
  


Jeremy stared at the words on his screen. Had _Kevin Day_ really just said that? He was just being polite, for sure.

**Jeremy:** do you really think so?  
  
**Kevin:** I’m known to be brutally honest when it comes to Exy.  
  


So Kevin really, actually, truly thought Jeremy would make a good captain? His sister had told him the same thing half an hour earlier, but it wasn’t the same. This was Exy god Kevin Day speaking.

He typed a message asking him again if he really meant it but deleted it before sending it. Instead, he addressed one of his biggest insecurities about the whole thing.

**Jeremy:** won’t it be weird, though? i’m only a sophomore  
  
i feel so inexperienced  
  
**Kevin:** Riko’s a freshman and he’s captain, and you’ll be a junior next year anyway.  
  


Kevin had a point there. With Jameal and Bea graduating this year, he was going to be one of the oldest strikers on the team. However, Jameal had taken the captain position his senior year. A year didn’t seem like much, but it amounted to a great deal of experience.

**Jeremy:** yeah, but he’s riko moriyama. it doesn’t count  
  


Tapping his fingers on the bench, he looked at the screen as Kevin typed a longer message. He tried to imagine what it would be like, being captain. It would be exciting, for sure. He could encourage their new players and make sure the traditions Jameal established didn’t get lost. He had a few ideas of his own, too: team-bonding moments, voluntary extra practices on Saturday mornings year-long instead of just during championship season, maybe a weekly chart recognizing improvements and achievements. On the other hand, the idea of taking Jameal’s place made him feel sick with the weight of expectations.

**Kevin:** The captain sets the tone and you’ll be great at that: you’re so good at encouraging people, bringing them together & bringing out the best in them. Coach Rhemann made a great choice. I would’ve made the same one.  
  
**Jeremy:** really?  
  
thank you, kev!!  
  
it means a lot coming from you  
  
**Kevin:** You should feel good about it. You deserve it. You’ll be great, so don’t worry.  
  


Thanks to Justice’s enthusiasm and Kevin’s encouragement, Jeremy was beginning to feel good about it. It was a great opportunity, and he had to believe that his coach wouldn’t have asked him if he didn’t think he could do it.

Before he could reply, Kevin added:

**Kevin:** (Kev??)  
  


Did no one else really call him that, or did he just think it was weird coming from Jeremy? Or maybe he wasn’t a fan of nicknames. Or, maybe, just maybe, Jeremy was overthinking it. Again.

**Jeremy:** don’t worry? I HAVE ANXIETY  
  
…but i’ll try :)  
  
you don’t like it?  
  
**Kevin:** It’s fine, I guess  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you again  
  
**Kevin:** Anytime.  
  


He felt a bit lighter. He could do it. He could totally do it.

Right?

He couldn’t wait to be able to talk to his best friends about it, but he’d have to wait a bit longer, as Rhemann didn’t want to announce it to the team until it was a done deal. He decided to sleep on it, talk to Jameal tomorrow, and then give his decision to Rhemann by the end of next week.

He texted his captain:

**Chat with “****Jameal”**  
  
**Jeremy:** got time for coffee & a talk tomorrow?  
  
**Jameal:** Of course! Wanna do lunch? We can go off-campus so we can talk in private  
  
**Jeremy:** sounds good. thank you, j!  
  


* * *

On Thursday morning, Jeremy woke up before his alarm. He was planning on talking to Coach Rhemann about the captain position today, and he was nervous. He knew he shouldn’t be: he was going to give his coach the answer he wanted, he’d have a couple of months to shadow Jameal, and he wasn’t going to be expected to start his duties until next year. Knowing all this didn’t help. He still woke up at 4.40 AM after getting barely three hours of sleep.

Well aware that he wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep, he got up and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Maybe he could go running before practice to release some tension. Or swing early by the gym and hope to catch Rhemann so they could talk before the rest of the team got there.

He opened the kitchen cabinet, looked at the coffee tin, decided he was probably better off reducing his caffeine intake today, and put the kettle on instead to make a cup of herbal tea. While he waited, he munched on a chocolate bar—dark chocolate was good for you, right? He remembered reading something about it in Exy Magazine last summer—and checked his phone. He had several new messages but one in particular caught his eye: it was from Kevin.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Kevin:** Guess who’s going to be the youngest player ever on the national team this summer?  
  


Jeremy smiled. It wasn’t exactly surprising: everyone knew it would happen. But this was sooner than most people had predicted.

Plus, with his message, Kevin had confirmed that he felt the same as Jeremy about sharing confidential information. It felt good to know there was that trust between them. Keeping it a secret from everyone until it was officially announced was going to be torture, but Jeremy would do it gladly.

**Jeremy:** OMG KEVIN!  
  
congrats!!  
  
but of course they asked you. they’d be idiots not to!  
  


While he typed his replies, Jeremy wondered how many people Kevin had shared the news with. Not too many, for sure. The more people knew about it, the higher the chances of someone leaking it to the press, either by mistake or for fifteen minutes of fame.

**Kevin:** The answer was actually Riko :) But I’ll be the second youngest by a couple of months.  
  
**Jeremy:** you’ll be amazing  
  
i’m so happy for you!  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you.  
  
Good luck on your game tomorrow. Don’t even think about losing: we’ve got to see each other in semis.  
  
**Jeremy:** don’t worry, we’ll be there :))  
  


He poured hot water into his favorite mug (_World’s Greatest Grandma_: a matching one to Laila’s _Badass Dad_ one) and picked a peppermint infusion from Jaimie’s tea selection. He brought it to the couch and sipped it while going through his other messages.

When his mug was empty, he texted Rhemann to ask him if they could talk today at some point, then changed into sweats and a hoodie, and headed out. On his way down the stairs, he texted his roommates to tell them he got up early and would meet them at the gym later. He got into his car, started it, and turned the radio on. While the preppy host of a morning show talked about the weather in L.A., he quickly checked his phone. Rhemann had replied already.

**Chat with “****Coach R.”**  
  
**Rhemann:** Hi, Jeremy. You can find me in my office now since you’re up, or we can talk after practice tonight.  
  
**Jeremy:** on my way  
  


Jeremy texted him back right away. No way he was going to wait until tonight to talk to him. He wasn’t going to be able to relax until he did and he’d rather do without the extra twelve hours of anxiety, thank you very much.

After dropping his phone on the passenger seat, he backed out of the parking spot and drove to the stadium, making an impromptu stop at a cafè to get a black coffee for Rhemann, and a hot chocolate for himself, as well as two jam croissants.

The stadium parking lot was empty except for Rhemann’s car. Jeremy parked his jeep, leaving an empty spot between them. He balanced his phone, the coffee tray, and the pastry bag in one hand, and grabbed his keys with the other. He let himself into the stadium and went straight to his coach’s office: the door was open but he still knocked.

“Morning, Coach,” he said. “I bring gifts.”

“Hi, Jeremy. Come in. I hope you bring good news as well.”

“I do.” Jeremy set the food and drinks on the table, on the space Rhemann had just freed by removing a few piles of papers. He dropped down on the chair in front of his coach. He’d been in this office often enough for it to feel familiar. “When you asked me, I wasn’t sure I was going to say yes. I’m only a sophomore and I think I have a lot more to learn. I really wish Jameal was staying for one more year.”

Rhemann nodded. “Me too. He’s a great player and a great captain.”

“I talked to him on Sunday and I asked him about a million questions,” Jeremy admitted. “He said he’s going to teach me everything he knows about being captain over the next couple of months, which is a fantastic opportunity.” He paused. “I also talked to someone else. Not someone on the team, don’t worry. I told, uh, I told Kevin Day.” He looked at his coach and waited for his reaction.

“I see.” Rhemann didn’t look mad, just surprised.

“I, uh—We talked a little at the Spirit Award ceremony, and we’ve been texting a little. I needed to talk about it with someone who knows Exy but isn’t a Trojan. He’s an outsider because he’s not on our team so he’s got perspective, but he’s also an insider because he knows what it’s like so his opinion matters. And he’s _Kevin Day_, you know. He’s the living embodiment of Exy.” He needed his coach to understand why he’d told Kevin and why Kevin’s opinion mattered so much.

“What did he say?”

“That he agrees with your decision. He, uh, he thinks I’ll make a good captain.”

“He’s right. So you’re saying I should thank him for talking you into it?” Rhemann looked slightly amused at the notion.

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad he did. And I’m happy to know I can count on you. We have some strong players graduating soon. Next year is going to be challenging.”

Jeremy smiled. “I love challenges.”


	7. Chapter 6: We're Just Ordinary People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Kevin start texting more often, and Jeremy sends Kevin a present for his birthday.

_We're just ordinary people, you and me_  
_Time will turn us into statues, eventually_  
—“Statues” by Foo Fighters

## Chapter 6: We’re Just Ordinary People

It was Jaimie’s fault, Jeremy decided.

He wanted to study. He really did. He would be studying right now if it wasn’t for Jaimie’s constant texting. His best friend was giving him a play-by-play account of the lecture he and Laila were attending, with details on the speaker’s horrendous tie, jokes on the interpreter’s awful signing, and frequent updates on the girl two rows ahead of them who was painting her nails instead of taking notes.

Jeremy should have just closed his books already. He wasn’t going to get anything done today.

When he got a message from Kevin, he replied right away. They’d been texting almost daily lately. Most days, they just shared funny or weird things their professors said, pictures of Hector, or comments on Exy-related news.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Kevin:** Weeks with no games suck  
  
**Jeremy:** agreed!  
  
what have you been up to?  
  
**Kevin:** Practice, practice, practice… and school.  
  
**Jeremy:** same  
  
**Kevin:** How’s Hector?  
  
**Jeremy:** living the good life. he’s sleeping on my lap while i study  
  


He snapped a picture of the kitten, who was curled up against Jeremy’s stomach, and sent it to Kevin.

**Kevin:** Lucky him!  
  
**Jeremy:** hey, you can come and sleep on my lap anytime :))  
  


_Fuck._

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_.

He should not have texted that. It had been the first thing that’d came to his mind, and he’d just—texted it. Like that. Without filter. He’d been messaging Jaimie for the past hour; he’d gotten comfortable. He hadn’t been thinking.

He quickly apologized:

**Jeremy:** sorry, i said i’d stop flirting  
  
ignore that  
  
**Kevin:** It’s fine. Honestly, I might take you up on it if you weren’t on the other side of the country. I’m so sleepy.  
  


Okay.

Okay, good. Kevin didn’t seem to mind.

**Jeremy:** no time for a nap?  
  
**Kevin:** I’ve got practice soon.  
  
**Jeremy:** hope you get to sleep in on sat  
  
**Kevin:** It would be good enough to be able to fall asleep tonight.  
  
Sorry. I didn’t mean to complain.  
  


It wasn’t the first time Kevin had done that, admitting he wasn’t doing great and then backtracking a second later. If what people said about the Ravens was true, it was probably because there was no room for showing weakness at Edgar Allan.

As usual, Jeremy encouraged him to talk about it.

**Jeremy:** it’s cool  
  
you can always talk to me  
  
having trouble sleeping?  
  
**Kevin:** Yeah, kind of. It’s a stressful time.  
  
**Jeremy:** i get it  
  
i’m here if you wanna talk. sometimes that helps  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you. I think I’m good.  
  
**Jeremy:** offer stands if you change your mind :)  
  


He made a mental note to text Kevin in a couple of days to ask him how he was doing. He didn’t want to push him, but he wanted Kevin to know he could talk to him if he wanted to. Then again, he wasn’t worried. Not really. Kevin was lucky: he had his brother right there with him and could share everything with him. Jeremy missed being on a team with Justice.

“i miss your face,” he texted his twin.

Justice promptly sent him ten selfies, but then she added: “Miss you too!!”

* * *

Jeremy slung his gym bag over his left shoulder and got out of the locker room.

“Oh, captain, my captain!” Laila, who had been waiting for him, greeted him with a bright smile.

“Not yet,” he reminded her. Rhemann had announced it at the end of practice, and it had been received well by the rest of the team. He’d gotten nothing but sincere congratulations so far.

“We have to celebrate. Drinks?” She didn’t wait for an answer: it wasn’t really a question anyway. _Of course_ they were going out drinking. “Where’s Jaimie?”

“With Taylor.”

Laila climbed into Jeremy’s car. “Just us, then. He can celebrate with us tomorrow night at the party.”

“What party?” Jeremy asked. He turned on the engine and got on the road.

“The team party to celebrate our new captain. I thought you knew? Jameal’s been organizing it for a week, apparently. He just told everyone. It’s tomorrow night and it’s gonna be awesome,” Laila said. “But you and I are still going out tonight. We don’t get many Friday nights off. I’m turning 21 soon, and I don’t feel like I’ve made full use of my fake ID so far.”

Jeremy laughed. “That’s a reason to go out?”

“I paid good money for it.”

“Alright, we’re going out,” he agreed. “But I’m only drinking one beer. I want to go for a run tomorrow morning.”

* * *

They ended up inviting Sara and Chayton to come along and went to a pub on the opposite side of campus where drinks were cheap and ID checks loose. Jeremy couldn’t remember the last time they had been asked to actually show their IDs. He honestly had no idea how they were still open.

They miraculously managed to find a table with four chairs and spent the first hour nursing their beers and talking about their chances in semis, their teammates, and the rumor that Coach Berg was hooking up with team medic Jack Michaels. (Jeremy was almost positive it was just a rumor, but Chayton still spent twelve minutes listing all the reasons why he thought it was true.)

Half-way through the night, Jeremy and Laila went to get a second round of drinks and came back to their friends chatting excitedly.

“What’s going on?” Laila asked.

“The ERC just made the official announcement: Riko and Kevin will play with the US Court starting this summer.” Chayton read a few quotes from an article on his phone for them.

Laila turned to look at Jeremy. “You don’t look surprised.”

“Are you? We all knew they were going to be Court.”

She ignored his reply. “He told you already, didn’t he? How long have you known?”

“A couple of weeks,” Jeremy admitted. No point in hiding it now. The news was public knowledge.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Laila asked with a dramatic gasp. “Did you tell Jaimie?”

“I didn’t tell anyone because it was a secret. Just like I bet he didn’t tell anyone about me taking the captain position.”

Chayton slapped him on the arm; Laila punched him on the other. “You told him before me?!”, “Should we be worried about your loyalties?” and “You told the enemy?!” his friends said in mock-outrage.

He looked at them in turn. Laila first: “I couldn’t tell you, Coach R. asked me not to.” Sara next: “Of course not.” Chayton last: “He’s not the enemy; he’s my friend who plays for a rival team.”

“A rival team who happens to be the fucking Ravens,” Chayton muttered.

“Maybe Kevin will play nice in semis,” Sara suggested. “Hey, Jere, you should join our defense line. I bet he wouldn’t play as hard against you.”

“Scared of having to mark him?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“At least you don’t have to go against Riko,” Chayton reminded her.

“At least Thea Muldani and Jean Moreau won’t take turns trying to pulverize you,” Jeremy said.

Sara laughed. “Yeah, alright, you have a point. I’d rather go against Kevin than Thea.”

“I don’t know,” Laila said. “Thea can slam me against a wall whenever she wants.”

“You only say that because you’re not a striker. I had bruises for two weeks last year. She almost broke my wrist,” Jeremy complained.

Laila shrugged. “Crushed between a wall and her body isn’t a bad way to die.”

“She’s hot, so is Jean. If either or both of them want to do me in the showers after the game, I’ll gladly bend over. On the court, I’d rather live.”

Chayton patted his shoulder in sympathy. “You could always talk Kevin into joining our line. Then Thea and Jean would go after him instead of you.”

“Yes, that’s likely to happen.” Jeremy had some beer, then reached for the food menu.

“I talked to a striker from the Lions a few weeks ago, and she told me Moreau is a motherfucker. He’ll hurt you if he can.”

Jeremy groaned. “Thank you for the nightmares, Sara.”

“Are you surprised?” Chayton asked. “He’s a Raven. They all play dirty.”

They all hummed in agreement.

“They’re gonna kick our asses, aren’t they?” Sara sighed.

“We might’ve had a chance this year if it wasn’t for Riko and Kevin,” Chayton said.

“They kinda deserve it, though,” Jeremy said quietly. “They practice all the time. You have no idea. I think Kevin practices 10 hours a day. I’m not exaggerating. We could beat them if we did the same. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to do that. I love Exy, but I don’t want to live for it.”

His friends nodded: they all felt the same.

“How does he even practice 10 hours a day?” Chayton asked, confused. “I wouldn’t have that much time even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t think he sleeps.” Jeremy shrugged. “Who’s hungry? I want to order some nachos, or maybe the fruit fondue with chocolate sauce, but I can’t eat the whole thing by myself.”

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** according to the online tracking you should have just received the package i sent you  
  
DO NOT OPEN IT!!  
  
**Kevin:** I was about to. Why not?  
  
**Jeremy:** it’s a birthday gift so you should open it tomorrow :))  
  
**Kevin:** I can’t believe you remembered. You didn’t need to get me anything.  
  
**Jeremy:** of course i did & i wanted to  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you!  
  
**Jeremy:** :))  
  


* * *

On Sunday morning, Jeremy texted Kevin while he was waiting for Jaimie to come out of the shower so they could go out for brunch.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KEVIN!!  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you!  
  
I’m opening your gift now.  
  


While he waited, Jeremy fixed his hair using the front glass of the microwave oven as a mirror.

**Kevin:** Jeremy, I love it! Thank you so much. It’s my new favorite hoodie.  
  
(Please don’t show this to anyone.)  
  


The messages were quickly followed by a picture of Kevin wearing a USC hoodie in Trojan deep red and gold. He had a small smile on his lips. Not the confident grin he usually flashed cameras, a more private one.

**Jeremy:** i’m so happy you like it!  
  
told you you’re an honorary trojan :))  
  
you look good in red and gold  
  
that picture will be our secret, don’t worry  
  
who took it? riko?  
  


In the background, Jeremy could see a collage of pictures and postcards. He wondered if it was Kevin’s room. Their chat was full of pictures, but almost all of them were photos of Hector. By now, Kevin had probably seen most of his room since that was where most pictures of Hector were taken. Jeremy found himself wondering if Kevin’s room looked similar. For some reason, he wouldn’t have pegged Kevin for the type of person who taped pictures to his walls. Were they memories? Were they random photographs he liked? Were they even his? Maybe it was the wall of the common room. He was about to ask him when Kevin’s reply distracted him.

**Kevin:** Jean took it. Riko wouldn’t be too happy about me wearing red and gold.  
  


He hadn’t been under any illusions that Riko was a Trojan fan like Kevin, but he was still surprised to learn that Riko didn’t approve of Kevin’s support to USC. It was probably a brotherly squabble. Kevin needed to learn how to use emojis when he was kidding. Maybe Riko was a Penn State supporter, and he and Kevin bickered all the time over which team would get second place in championship.

**Jeremy:** riko is no fun  
  
so which cake did you get? i bet you like fruit cakes  
  
**Kevin:** Ravens don’t eat cake.  
  


No cake? Seriously?

Jeremy was all for sticking with his meal plan most of the time, but he also believed in having fun and rewarding himself occasionally. Sometimes that meant a brownie or a slice of cake.

**Jeremy:** that’s sad  
  
everyone deserves cake on their birthday  
  
now i wanna fedex you a giant slice of cake  
  
**Kevin:** We’re athletes!!  
  
**Jeremy:** one slice of cake won’t make a difference  
  
**Kevin:** One, uh? I should remind you that I follow you on Instagram.  
  


Jeremy thought back to the last few weeks. He’d posted several pictures of birthday celebrations. Kevin might have a point after all. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. No way.

**Jeremy:** 28 players & 4 coaches: we celebrate birthdays every other week  
  
what am i gonna do, not eat the cake??  
  
**Kevin:** Exactly! I bet Penn State doesn’t have cake that often and that’s why they placed second last year.  
  


Did Kevin just bring Penn State into it? _Bastard._ Jeremy chuckled softly, shaking his head as he typed his reply.

**Jeremy:** well this year we’ll beat them  
  
and if not, at least we had cake  
  
yolo  
  
**Kevin:** You won’t win this argument.  
  
**Jeremy:** i would if i could spoon-feed you chocolate ice cream cake while we talk  
  
as bros of course :))  
  


It had become normal: Jeremy would jokingly flirt, Kevin would play along. It was comfortable. It was fun. Jeremy didn’t even notice it anymore. Texting Kevin was almost as easy as texting any of his teammates.

**Kevin:** Never gonna happen.  
  
**Jeremy:** never say never :)  
  
**Kevin:** In your dreams, Jeremy Knox  
  
**Jeremy:** always, kevin day  
  


The bathroom door burst open and Jaimie stumbled into the living area with a yawn. “Next week, we’re doing brunch at 3 PM.”

“I don’t think that would count as brunch.”

“Whatever. Were you texting Kevin? Did he like the hoodie?”

Jeremy smiled. “Very much. But next year I’m gonna send him a cake. Can you believe Ravens never eat cake?”

“Never?”

“Apparently.”

“Fuck, that’s harsh.”

They closed the door behind them and took the stairs to get out of the building.

“My car or yours?” Jeremy asked.

“If I drive, there’s a fifty percent chance I’ll crash into a wall right now,” Jaimie signed sloppily. Yeah, he was definitely still half-asleep.

Jeremy gave him a hearty pat on the back and then unlocked his car. “Let’s get some coffee into you.”

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** did you know that up to 80% of the population of classical athens were SLAVES??  
  
**Kevin:** I did. It makes you rethink that image of a democratic, liberal society, doesn’t it?  
  
**Jeremy:** FUCK YES  
  
anyway. how’re you doing?  
  
**Kevin:** Good. We’re ready for tonight’s game.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’ll be watching :)  
  
**Kevin:** I’ll try to make it interesting :)  
  
**Jeremy:** you always do  
  


* * *

It was Saturday night, and the radio was playing an old rock song that Jeremy had heard before but didn’t quite know. He was driving his jeep down a busy street and listening to Laila’s rant about her Chemistry professor.

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” she complained, but she was laughing too.

Jeremy’s phone chirped twice: new messages. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Laila without taking his eyes off the road. “It’s probably Jaimie. Can you text him we’re almost there?”

“So, you want me to lie?”

“We’re not that far away.”

“It’s actually _Kevin_. He sent you a picture of a book on—the French Revolution?” she said. “Is it an inside joke, or are you a bigger nerd than I thought?”

“It’s—” Jeremy hesitated. “It’s for class,” he said eventually, which was true but wasn’t the whole truth: it was connected to the Political Philosophy class he was taking, but he didn’t exactly _need_ to read that book to pass. He liked doing some extra reading when the topic was interesting, and it didn’t hurt that he could talk to Kevin about it.

“Right.” Laila sounded skeptical.

She was quiet for several moments, and Jeremy focused on not running over any people randomly crossing the road without looking.

“Man, who knew Kevin Day was such a flirt,” she said after a while.

“I’m sorry—What?”

“I’ll try to make it interesting smiley face,” she quoted. “In your dreams, Jeremy Knox.”

“Stop. Stop reading,” he said, tone light but firm. “It’s a private conversation. I don’t mind you reading my replies, but there’s some stuff in there that he doesn’t want just anyone to know.”

She gave him his phone back right away. “Sorry. I thought you guys only talked about Exy.”

He shrugged. “We talk about Exy, yeah, but also about other stuff. And I get the feeling that he’s a private person. I guess he has to be since he’s always under the spotlight.”

“Yeah, that must suck. Do you think it’s his choice, staying in the closet, or did Edgar Allan make it for him?”

“He’s not gay.”

“I don’t know what he is, but I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with you, so he’s not straight,” she said, then touched his arm. “You need to turn left at the intersection.”

“No, it’s the one after that. I think.”

Jeremy was sure he had to turn left at some point and then take the first street to the right to get to the club. He’d been there with Jaimie and Taylor not too long ago. He just couldn’t remember if he should turn left before or after the ice cream shop. _After_, he decided when it was too late to do anything else anyway.

“I’ll just tell Jaimie we’re lost.”

“We’re not,” Jeremy said without much confidence.

“We’re lost, and Kevin Day is flirting with you.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I wish.”

He turned left and then right. Thankfully, the club was right there. No need to navigate the intricate labyrinth of one-way streets any longer. He managed to find a parking spot not too far away from the club and then texted Jaimie.

**Chat with “****Jaimie ♥”**  
  
**Jeremy:** we made it. are you guys inside?  
  


While he waited for his friend to write back, he texted Kevin to thank him for the book recommendation.

Jaimie’s reply came a few seconds later in the form of a picture of four beers sitting on a table. “They’re inside,” Jeremy told Laila. “They’ve got a table and beers waiting for us.”

“Let’s not make those beers wait any longer then.”

* * *

Jaimie and Taylor disappeared half-way through the night, most likely to hook up in Jaimie’s car or in the bathroom. Jeremy didn’t really want the details. He and Laila finished their second round of drinks, then split up: Laila headed to the dance floor with a curvy girl with tattooed hands and braided hair, while Jeremy chatted up an athletic guy who turned out to be a lacrosse player.

An hour later, while Danny was trying to get the bartender’s attention, Jeremy texted Kevin. Jeremy was getting used to Kevin replying at weird hours, so knowing it was the middle of the night in West Virginia didn’t stop him.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** is it okay to sleep with a lax player if he’s really hot and gives amazing neck rubs?  
  


It was the kind of question he would usually ask Laila or Jaimie. He was also vaguely aware that it was the kind of question he asked when he wanted to be talked out of something he knew wasn’t good for him. Was he up for some casual sex with a good-looking guy? Hell yes. Was he emotionally in the right place to deal with the morning-after awkwardness and a potential request to see each other again? Not really.

**Kevin:** No. Never.  
  
**Jeremy:** did i mention the neck rubs?  
  
**Kevin:** He plays lacrosse.  
  
**Jeremy:** …and that he’s fucking hot?  
  
**Kevin:** HE PLAYS LACROSSE!  
  
Don’t you dare sleep with him.  
  
**Jeremy:** not even once?  
  
**Kevin:** You can do so much better than a lacrosse player.  
  


Jeremy smiled. He looked up from his phone. Danny was still leaning against the counter and damn, he was hot. He indulged himself in taking a good look at him, then looked around: Laila was still talking with the same girl as before, and he spotted Jaimie and Taylor dancing and laughing. He wanted _that_ so badly. The familiarity. The deep connection.

_Jaimie_. He wanted Jaimie.

But Jaimie was off-limits, and Jeremy was feeling lonely tonight.

**Jeremy:** he’s buying me drinks  
  
he’s sort of funny  
  
and there’s no one else  
  
**Kevin:** It’s a big campus. I’m positive you can find someone else. Someone who doesn’t play lacrosse.  
  
You’ve got 27 teammates.  
  
**Jeremy:** i don’t sleep with my teammates  
  
**Kevin:** Why not?  
  


Because it ended in tears. Because Jeremy could do a lot of things but sex without any feelings wasn’t one of them. Because you had to see them the next day, and practice with them, and shower with them, and it could get awkward as hell.

**Jeremy:** it gets messy  
  
been there, done that  
  


“I come back victorious! I thought I’d have to challenge someone to a sword fight to get a couple of drinks,” Danny said, setting two Mojitos on the table and sliding back into his chair.

“I might have enjoyed looking at that.” Jeremy put away his phone without reading Kevin’s reply and focused his attention on Danny. He raised his glass. “To my hero, then.”

* * *

Jeremy was outside, shivering in his thin t-shirt while he waited for Danny, who’d gone back inside the club to get his jacket. He’d already told Laila he was leaving and given her his car keys so she could get back to the dorms, but he hadn’t been able to find Jaimie and Taylor anywhere. They were probably still pressed against each other on the dance floor.

He texted Jaimie:

**Chat with “****Jaimie ♥”**  
  
**Jeremy:** going home with danny from the lax team  
  
laila has my car keys  
  
see you tomorrow  
  


He still had one unread message from Kevin. He opened the chat.

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Kevin:** It’s still no excuse to sleep with a lacrosse player.  
  


He wondered if Kevin was really that set against lacrosse players, or if he was just joking. Sometimes it was hard to tell. He looked at the time. Kevin kept weird hours, but he was probably asleep now. He sent a reply thinking Kevin would read it in the morning but was only mildly surprised when his phone indicated that Kevin was typing.

**Jeremy:** lacrosse players are people too  
  
**Kevin:** They are people who make bad life decisions. Do you really want to sleep with someone like that?  
  


Jeremy laughed. He wanted to send a funny message back, but Danny was back before he could think of what to say, and suddenly, witty replies didn’t matter so much. He sent a quick “gotta go, talk to you later,” then pocketed his phone and disregarded it when it buzzed with new messages.

* * *

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Kevin:** Wait, where are you going?  
  
Jeremy?  
  
Please tell me you’re not with the lacrosse player.  
  
**Jeremy:** i was  
  


Jeremy scratched Hector’s head and was rewarded by a satisfied purr. At least he was getting some affection tonight. He reached for the water bottle on his nightstand and gulped it down. Chayton was sleeping at his girlfriend’s tonight, but Jeremy had still kept the lights low. The lamp on the bedside table was casting soft shadows on the wall.

**Kevin:** Shame on you.  
  
**Jeremy:** i didn’t sleep with him  
  
i wanted to but then he said lax is better than exy and i just… couldn’t  
  


That had been the excuse Jeremy had given himself anyway. It was much easier than admitting he didn’t want to sleep with Danny while thinking about Jaimie. That he didn’t think it would have been fair to Danny, even though it was clear to everyone involved that it was a one-night-stand. Damn, this was Ryan all over again.

He was glad that Kevin was still (or already?) awake. He needed to unwind before he’d be able to sleep, and talking with a friend always helped.

**Kevin:** He said what??  
  
**Jeremy:** i know, right?  
  
**Kevin:** Well, you made the right choice.  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah  
  
i mean, i’m kinda regretting it right now but yeah, you’re right  
  
**Kevin:** You deserve so much better than a lacrosse player  
  


Jeremy sighed. “do you want to know the truth?” he started typing. Maybe talking about it with someone who didn’t know Jaimie would give him some clarity. Then again, he wasn’t sure his friendship with Kevin was yet at a place where he could unload all his mental chaos on him. He deleted the message and sent a different one instead:

**Jeremy:** i hope i’ll find him/her soon  
  
**Kevin:** You date girls too?  
  
**Jeremy:** mostly guys, but occasionally a girl catches my eye  
  
**Kevin:** You know it’d be easier, right?  
  


Even in sunny, liberal California, Jeremy wasn’t a stranger to homophobia. He knew what Kevin meant. It would be even more relevant a couple of years from now when he’d be trying to get recruited by a professional team. He wasn’t sure he wanted to have that conversation at 2.30 AM.

**Jeremy:** i know  
  
i don’t care  
  
**Kevin:** You’re fearless. I admire that.  
  
**Jeremy:** fearless? :)) look who’s talking!  
  
**Kevin:** I’m fearless on the court. You’re fearless in life. It’s different.  
  


Jeremy reread the last few messages. Laila’s words from earlier were still on his mind. Was it possible…? Not that Kevin was flirting with him, of course. That was just a joke between them. But maybe Kevin wasn’t so straight after all.

Or maybe Jeremy was just tipsy and unable to mind his own business.

Still, he wanted to give Kevin a chance to come out if he wanted. Sometimes it was hard to start that conversation, he knew it all too well. It was easier when there was an opening.

**Jeremy:** are you kinda sorta coming out to me, or am i drunk and reading too much into this conversation?  
  


There. Casual enough that Kevin could ignore it if he was straight or if he wasn’t ready to come out. Easily forgotten. Zero pressure.

“What do you think, Hector?” He cuddled his cat while Kevin typed. “It’s quite a long reply, I think Laila might have been on to something.”

When the message finally came through, though, it was a short one:

**Kevin:** I’m just saying I admire you.  
  


It was pretty obvious that Kevin had written a longer message and then chosen to delete it and send a different one. Jeremy was no stranger to the practice. He didn’t even try to guess what the original message might have said. He was quite confident that the trust between him and Kevin was strong enough to allow Kevin to come out if he wanted to, but there could be dozens of different reasons why he hadn’t. The easiest and most likely being that Kevin actually was straight. Besides Laila’s impressions based on a few texts and some friendly flirting that was almost certainly a joke, Jeremy had no reason to think otherwise.

**Jeremy:** thank you, kev  
  
**Kevin:** :)  
  
Gotta go, talk soon.  
  
**Jeremy:** goodnight! or, you know, have a nice day  
  
i’m too tired to deal with time zones lol  
  


“Should we go to bed now, Hector?”

The cat meowed in response and Jeremy took it as a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week, after this light-hearted chapter, we're going to the Nest with Kevin's POV.


	8. Chapter 7: Hope Is a Dangerous Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin reflects on his friendship with Jeremy; Kevin and Riko travel to Columbia to recruit Andrew.

_If hope is a dangerous hole, will you join me?_  
_Jump, there's a world of war, will you join me?_  
—“Spit the Dark” by Empires

## Chapter 7: Hope Is a Dangerous Hole

Kevin should have been sleeping. It was 2 PM, and his alarm would go off in thirty minutes for their 3 PM practice. He’d barely gotten an hour and a half of sleep instead of four, which wasn’t enough to perform well on the court. The Master wouldn’t be pleased. Kevin still had the bruises from the last time that had happened. Jean did too. Fading yellow bruises that matched the red ones around his wrists that never quite had a chance to heal. At this point, they were just as permanently etched into his skin as the tattoo on his left cheekbone.

Number two. No less, no more.

It’s wasn’t a plan; it was an order. A life sentence.

His phone buzzed softly and he quickly snatched it from the nightstand. He held his breath while he waited to see if Riko would wake up. Luckily, he wasn’t a light sleeper.

Hiding under the blankets to block the light coming from the screen from potentially waking Riko, he looked at the notification: two new messages from “J.” Of course it was Jeremy. Who else?

He felt some of the weight being lifted off his chest. It felt nice, knowing there was someone out there thinking about him. He hadn’t had that in so long. Coach Wymack called him twice a month to ask him how he was doing, but this was different: an almost-daily stream of random messages and pictures that never failed to brighten up Kevin’s days and nights.

He unlocked his phone to read the messages.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** my professor is talking about alexander and i keep thinking about you  
  
so hi, how are you?  
  


_Tired, sore, and feeling too jittery to sleep._

He couldn’t say that, of course.

**Kevin:** You shouldn’t text while you’re in class. Especially during History!  
  
I’m good. We’re flying out to Columbia tomorrow to recruit a player. I think I can talk him into signing.  
  


He was excited. He’d only seen videos of Andrew Minyard playing, and he couldn’t wait to be on the same court. He couldn’t wait to score against someone that good. The goalkeepers on this year’s line-up were good. Obviously. They wouldn’t be Ravens otherwise. But when you were the second highest-rated striker in the country, only the very best goalkeeper posed a real challenge.

Kevin still thought they should bring Jean along. Both Riko and Kevin loved Exy. Minyard didn’t seem to share that love. Jean, who didn’t care for Exy but still gave it all when playing it, would probably have a better chance at getting through to him. Riko, of course, disagreed. He thought Minyard was a diva who needed to feel wooed. That was why he and Kevin were flying there.

Understanding what people wanted and using it to manipulate them was one of the first lessons Riko and Kevin had learned from the Master. In this case, they just happened to disagree on what Minyard wanted: Riko thought it was adulation; Kevin thought it was a reason to play.

Obviously, he wasn’t going to contradict Riko. He’d just have to hope Minyard would find the challenge of stopping him a good enough reason to sign with them.

He read Jeremy’s replies.

**Jeremy:** he needs to be talked into it??  
  
crazy guy  
  
i bet he’ll take one look at you and say yes  
  
i would  
  
i mean, i would never leave the trojans for the ravens or any other team  
  
but i’ll say yes to anything else if you’re the one asking  
  


Kevin smiled in the dark.

**Kevin:** I thought you weren’t flirting with me.  
  
**Jeremy:** am not :)  
  
i’m beginning you think you WANT me to flirt with you :))  
  
good luck with this guy  
  


Kevin was about to type a “Thank you” when he heard a shuffling of blankets coming from the bed on the opposite side of the room. He quickly deleted the conversation. Riko hadn’t gone through his phone yet, but he could never be too careful. He couldn’t risk getting caught texting a player from USC. Jean had a long scar on his back from when Riko had found his emails to a childhood friend. It hadn’t mattered that there was no relevant information being disclosed in those emails. The Master would have punished him for that. Riko had punished Jean for having a friend.

Back then, Kevin had thought Jean stupid for thinking he could get away with it. (God, Jean used to be so fierce before Riko and the Master beat all the fight out of him!) He had thought it had been an act of defiance because it wasn’t like Jean didn’t know that he and Kevin were Riko’s alone. But now Kevin wondered if maybe it had been a desire for human connection rather than a rebellious act.

Riko turned on the light and Kevin pretended to be asleep. Eyes closed and back to the room, he listened tensely as Riko got up, padded around the room, then walked out to go to the bathroom. Kevin opened his eyes to look at the pictures on the wall. One of the small concessions Riko had made. Right there, front and center, was a picture of Jeremy’s cat. Kevin had been careful to choose one that gave no indication as to whose cat it was. No USC logos, no Trojan players in the background, and, more importantly, no Jeremy.

Jeremy was a secret only Jean knew about.

The first time he had seen Jeremy, Kevin had been sitting in the Master’s office with Riko, going through files of potential recruits. Jeremy had been smiling in the picture inside his folder. Not tall enough to be a striker, Kevin had thought, but his stats had disagreed with that assessment. Kevin had been about to place the folder on the pile that deserved a closer look, when Riko had glanced at it and said, “Don’t bother. Page two says he’s gay.” And that had been it.

Kevin still remembered thinking he would have really liked to meet someone who could smile so brightly. More than that, he remembered the shame he’d felt at Riko’s words. That sharp reminder that what he and Jean did in the dark—comforting touches, passionate kisses—was wrong. Dirty. That it could cost him everything.

His alarm started ringing and he quickly turned around and turned it off. He gave himself five seconds to focus.

_One_. Soon, he’d win his first championship with the Ravens.

_Two_. In just a few months, he’d start practicing with the Court.

_Three_. The Olympics were a year away.

_Four_. He’d finally have a chance to truly prove himself on an international stage.

_Five_. He could do it. It’d be worth it once he’d win gold. For his mom.

He got up just as Riko came back into the room.

“Good morning,” he said in Japanese.

“Hurry up. I won’t be late because of you.”

* * *

Traveling was always unsettling. The rest of the world ran at a different pace, which was uncomfortable and tiring. Traveling also meant keeping up appearances. He had to wear his public persona and always be ready for the cameras. Be charming. (But no more charming than Riko.) Shine. (But no brighter than Riko.) Be smart. (But let Riko sound smarter.)

_Be number two._

It was exhausting.

On the bright side, it meant a change of scenery, which could be nice.

This trip had been quite pleasant, in fact: no interviews scheduled, no press, just a bunch of star-struck high school students and an eager-to-please coach. Kevin had even had a little time to take a few pictures, a rare luxury that he’d deeply cherished.

It would have been a good day, all things considered, if only that infuriating goalkeeper had said yes.

The flight back had been nerve-wracking, sitting next to a seething Riko who was just waiting for an excuse to take his rage out on someone. Anyone. Riko’s barely contained rage had exploded as soon as they were back in the Nest, and Kevin had directed it on himself because the alternative was Riko taking it out on Jean—again—and he was always more violent with Jean than he was with Kevin.

“You’re an idiot,” Jean had whispered in French while he bandaged Kevin’s cuts with expert fingers. Then he’d kissed him (quickly, so no one would see) and Kevin had stopped regretting his courage from earlier.

After a grueling practice and forcing himself to eat dinner, Kevin had holed up in his room, turning down Thea’s invitation to watch some old Penn State games by saying he was tired after his trip and wanted to rest in order to be in top shape tomorrow.

He lay down and took a couple of deep breaths, willing his body to relax.

He was used to Riko’s outbursts. That wasn’t what was bothering him. (It _wasn’t_.) It was Minyard.

The sudden buzzing of his phone startled him.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** so, how’d it go??  
  


“Fuck him,” Kevin typed quickly. It felt good to write it down. Riko had repeated it at least a hundred times on the car ride to the airport and then on the plane, but Kevin had kept his mouth shut: fueling Riko’s anger was never a good idea.

**Jeremy:** whaaat??  
  
he turned you down??  
  
no, wait, let me rephrase that:  
  
he turned YOU down???  
  
i don’t get it  
  


Kevin sat up and checked the door: it was slightly ajar. Closing it could have prompted Riko to wonder what he was hiding, and Kevin couldn’t have that. This was okay. He would be able to hear any footsteps coming down the hallway, so it was safe enough.

He looked back at the screen. Jeremy had a way of making him feel less alone.

This was Ravens’ business; he shouldn’t talk about it. But it was Jeremy. Jeremy, who’d kept every little secret Kevin had told him so far. He could be trusted. And Kevin _needed_ to talk about it. He couldn’t talk to Riko because he’d only make him angry again, and he couldn’t talk to Jean either.

“He’s smarter than he looks if he doesn’t want to be a Raven,” Jean had said in French after Kevin had told him about Minyard’s refusal to sign.

**Kevin:** Me neither. He’s so talented. I swear he’s one of the best goalkeepers I’ve ever seen… and he’s not even trying. He doesn’t care. How can you be that good at something and not care?  
  
**Jeremy:** beats me  
  
are you upset?  
  
wanna talk?  
  
**Kevin:** It just doesn’t make sense.  
  
And Riko doesn’t get it. He’s only angry because nobody should turn us down. That’s it. And I understand that, but it’s not why I’m mad.  
  
So much wasted potential. You have no idea.  
  


Kevin shot another nervous look at the door. Talking about history wasn’t too risky. If Riko walked in on him, he could always claim he was texting a classmate. Telling Jeremy about Riko was different. Before now, Kevin had never imagined saying or writing those words: “Riko doesn’t get it.” They were supposed to be a unit, constantly in synch, two parts of the same war machine.

He shouldn’t have texted that: it was high treason.

But Jeremy didn’t seem to notice.

**Jeremy:** i just did a bit of googling  
  
andrew minyard, right?  
  
**Kevin:** Wow, you’re good at googling!  
  
**Jeremy:** not many goalkeepers in south carolina worth kevin day’s time  
  


Kevin deleted his earlier messages.

There. Like he’d never said anything. Nothing had changed. His world was still intact.

He looked at the door, then at the new messages Jeremy had sent:

**Jeremy:** damn, he’s good  
  
think he’d sign with us?  
  
(just kidding)  
  


Kevin relaxed a little. So long as he was careful, he could talk about Minyard. And fuck, he needed that. It bothered him, Minyard’s apathy. It was almost like he was taunting Kevin. Like he’d made up a new game, one where Andrew was the only one having fun, and Kevin’s only way of winning was to make him care. A game rigged against Kevin, a game he couldn’t win, even though he knew—he _knew_—that deep down, Andrew wanted him to.

**Kevin:** If you can make him care, he’s yours.  
  
He could be Court. Easily. He could help us win gold at the Olympics. He could be one of the greatest goalkeepers in history.  
  
**Jeremy:** and he doesn’t want that? how? why??  
  


It felt good talking with someone who got it. Kevin wished he could call Jeremy. He wanted a deeper connection. This was so much more support than he was used to, but it was still not enough.

Jeremy was typing again. Kevin read the conversation over, trying to commit it to memory, trying to savor this feeling.

**Jeremy:** oh, he’s got a twin brother?  
  
he any good?  
  


Kevin almost laughed. The other Minyard should not have been allowed to stand on an Exy court. To be fair, Kevin thought that of most high school players and a good number of college ones.

**Kevin:** He’s average, and that’s paying him a compliment. Too bad because unlike Andrew he actually puts some effort into it.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m sorry it didn’t work out  
  


“Thank you for letting me vent. I needed that,” Kevin typed. He hesitated before sending the message. It betrayed more vulnerability than he had been raised to show. But Jeremy wouldn’t judge him for that, would he? He hit Send and closed his eyes.

Four years. Four years and then he’d be out of the Nest. Still under the Master’s control, still within Riko’s reach, but playing with people who were more like Jeremy and less like—less like the Ravens.

He could do it. It would be worth it.

The Olympics. Gold. For his mom.

Being here wasn’t his choice, but he liked to think it was the life he would have chosen for himself if someone had asked him. Most days, he could even believe it. It was a little harder on days like today when Riko’s cruelty was a fresh memory.

**Jeremy:** anytime, kevin  
  


Kevin looked at the words on his screen. He didn’t know if Jeremy meant it, but he decided to believe him. There was something about Jeremy that made trusting him feel so easy.

He reread the entire conversation, then regretfully deleted every single message except for the last one. His finger hovered over it: it wasn’t incriminating; it didn’t mean anything out of context. He could keep it. It wasn’t too big of a risk, no bigger than texting Jeremy in the first place anyway.

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway and made a final decision to keep it. He quickly pocketed his phone and lay down. He felt a warmness inside his chest, something he hadn’t felt in years, since Jean had arrived at Evermore. It wasn’t quite hope, and it wasn’t quite courage; it was something in between. A rebellious strength, a newfound resilience.

The door opened and then closed again quickly. Kevin knew it was Jean before he heard his voice: Riko was never that subdued, and no one else dared to come into the King’s bedroom.

“Are you awake?” Jean asked in French.

“Yes.” Kevin turned around to look at him.

“He’s watching a movie. We’ve got some time.” Jean walked to Kevin’s bed, placed his hands on either side of Kevin’s hips, and leaned down for a kiss. “Were you trying to sleep?”

“Not really. And you’re not helping with that, by the way.”

Kevin flashed him a quick smile as he grabbed him by the waist and pulled him on top of him. Jean kissed him again, hot and hard.

“That’s quite a change of mood from before,” Jean said against his lips.

“I’m feeling better.” Kevin moved his hands lower, to Jean’s hips. “You should thank Jeremy for that.”

Jean scoffed, but when he spoke, his tone was teasing, almost amused, not mean: “The sunshine child.”

“I think he would like that nickname. Unironically.”

“I bet.” Jean kissed Kevin’s neck. “You have such a hard-on for him.”

Kevin laughed. “I have a hard-on for you. And your hands. And your mouth. And—Fuck, Jean,” he gasped.

“Hush.”

They both looked at the door, bodies tense, holding their breath and listening for footsteps or movement outside.

Silence. Blissful silence.

They relaxed into each other once again and kissed, but more tenderly than before. Just because they’d gotten lucky once, it didn’t mean it would happen again. With Riko sitting down the hall, it was simply too risky.

“You don’t need Minyard. You’ve got me. I’ve got your back,” Jean whispered.

Kevin recognized the attempt at comforting him. “I know.” He ran a hand through Jean’s hair and looked into his gray eyes. “We can win gold without him. It’s still frustrating to see that much talent go to waste.”

Jean kissed him again, then sat up. “Get some sleep now. You need it. I’ll stay for a few minutes.”

Kevin nodded and turned to his side. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Jean’s hand on his back and the comfort of Jeremy’s words lull him to sleep.


	9. Chapter 8: Will Our World Come Tumbling Down?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ravens play against Penn State; the Trojans play against the Jackals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: homophobic talk

_Is our secret safe tonight_  
_And are we out of sight_  
_Or will our world come tumbling down?_  
_Will they find our hiding place_  
_Is this our last embrace_  
_Or will the walls start caving in?_  
—“Resistance” by Muse

## Chapter 8: Will Our World Come Tumbling Down?

Kevin loved game days.

Some people loved Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or their birthday. Some people—most people—loved weekends. Kevin loved game days. The ritual of getting his gear on, the excitement of the crowd spilling into the locker room, the perfect understanding and synchronicity between him and Riko on the court. His focus was sharp, his mind clear. Exy was the only thing that mattered, and Exy was something he was good at. The best at. (_Second_ best.) He felt powerful on the court. In control. Strength replaced fear. Confidence erased his anxiety.

It was even better when their opponent was strong, when perfection was not only expected but necessary, when he could truly prove his worth.

People were already filling the stadium. Kevin could hear their presence all the way from his room. In half an hour, they would go to the locker room and get changed. Right now, Riko was meditating, and Kevin was going through his class notes.

His phone screen lit up with a new message. Luckily, he’d turned off all sounds and vibrations.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** good luck with your game tonight  
  
(not that you need it)  
  
destroy penn  
  
make them cry  
  
**Kevin:** Still sore that they beat you last year, I see.  
  
I thought you Trojans were good sports.  
  


Kevin glanced at Riko while he waited for Jeremy to reply: he didn’t look like he’d noticed anything. Eyes closed and breathing slow and steady, he was completely unaware that Kevin was texting a rival team player.

**Jeremy:** WE ARE  
  
doesn’t mean i can’t wish YOU would make them want to switch to lax  
  
**Kevin:** Wow, you’re really upset: that’s the worst thing you could wish on an Exy team. So you’ll be cheering for the Ravens tonight?  
  
**Jeremy:** i’ll be cheering for kevin day  
  
(i always do)  
  


“I’ll secretly dedicate my first goal to you,” Kevin typed. He was feeling bold. _Invincible. _Jean would have said he was an idiot for trusting Jeremy so much. Kevin knew it was risky: if Jeremy shared their conversations with anyone, if the press got their hands on their messages, the Master would punish him, and then Riko would kill him.

Jeremy texted back:

**Jeremy:** a man after my heart :))  
  


Kevin smiled.

Yes, he was risking everything he’d been working for. But it was worth it.

* * *

The crowd was a sea of black enveloping the court on two sides. They were loud and emboldened by yet another victory. By contrast, Penn State’s supporters seemed to shrink now that their team had proven, once again, their inadequacy.

“King! King! King!”

Riko raised his racquet to the stands. A god acknowledging his worshippers.

Championship-wise, tonight’s game was inconsequential: both Edgar Allan and Penn State had already secured their advancement to the next round. But the Ravens’ clear superiority during the game had killed any dreams Penn State might have had of winning the championship this year.

In a few weeks, the two teams would face each other again in semi-finals and the Ravens would win again. Kevin had no doubts about it. And then Jeremy had better make sure USC would make it to the final.

Riko ran to him, clacked their racquets together, and then gave him a hug. The crowd went wild.

“Great game!” Riko said.

“You too.”

Kevin looked up at their fans, a victorious smile on his face.

He felt so good. He felt so _alive_.

* * *

In the locker room, taking advantage of the cheerful chaos that surrounded him and the fact that Riko was still showering, Kevin checked his phone, hoping to find a message from Jeremy. There were two.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** congrats on the win & thank you for teaching penn a lesson  
  
too bad penn will still get past the third round  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you! And it was a pleasure. Although I bet you won’t be so happy when you face us in semis.  
  
Will it make it hurt less if I dedicate my first goal to you again then? :)  
  


He pulled on his sweater, then checked to see if Jeremy had read his replies, if he was writing something back. It was late in California, but he knew Jeremy didn’t have any early classes on Fridays so there was a chance he was still up. Sure enough, his phone informed him that Jeremy was typing.

**Jeremy:** i’ll dedicate mine to you  
  
**Kevin:** You’re assuming you can get past Jean.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m getting jean?? i’ll take that as a compliment  
  
**Kevin:** You should.  
  
Good luck on your game tomorrow.  
  


“Are you done flirting with the sunshine child?” Jean whispered in French after dropping down on the bench right next to him.

Kevin looked at him: Jean seemed amused.

“You know he’s older than us, right?”

“No, because I’m not obsessed with him like you are,” Jean teased. “He’s still a child.”

Kevin pressed his thigh against Jean’s. “He’s not that innocent,” he said.

“I bet,” he heard Jean say before he turned his attention back to his phone.

**Jeremy:** thank you  
  
goodnight kev  
  
**Kevin:** Goodnight.  
  


He’d just deleted the conversation when he felt Jean shift slightly away from him. He looked up: Riko was coming back into the locker room.

“Ready to celebrate?” Riko asked his teammates.

Kevin kept his eyes on him as he pocketed his phone. “Ready when you are.”

Riko got closer. “You should fuck Thea tonight. She played a good game, she deserves a good fuck and so do you,” he said.

* * *

The following night, the Ravens gathered around the two TV screens to watch the Trojans play against Breckenridge. Riko’s inner circle and a few select players who’d played particularly well this week and had thus earned special privileges got the largest TV set and spread out comfortably on the couches, while the rest of the team piled up in front of the other screen.

Sitting to Riko’s right, where he belonged, Kevin acted like he was only interested in learning more about the team they were likely to face in semis. Like he wasn’t rooting for the Trojans to win. Like his heart didn’t start beating faster when Jeremy took the court with a smile so big that not even his helmet could fully hide it.

He kept his breathing steady and his expression only mildly interested through every goal, matching Riko’s posture and lack of enthusiasm.

He was used to hiding his emotions. He didn’t find it particularly hard. Not until only three minutes were left on the clock and the Jackals got desperate.

One second, Jeremy had the ball and was passing it back to their offensive dealer—Wright—in an extraordinary display of team synchronicity and communication, the next, Jackals’ number sixteen—nicknamed Gorilla for a reason—had crushed him against the plexiglass wall.

The cameras followed the ball on the left side of the court. Wright carried the ball for three steps; he passed it to their other striker, Carter; she made it past the Jackals’ defense with impressive speed, and took a shot at goal. The goal lit up red and the crowd cheered loudly, but neither Trojan player celebrated. Instead, they ran to the right side of the court.

Jeremy was leaning against the wall, right hand holding his left arm instead of his racquet. He offered Carter a fist-bump, but it was a weak celebration: he was injured, there was no doubt about it. He hadn’t called the referee’s attention to avoid interrupting the play, but now he was shaking his head at whatever Carter had asked him.

The Trojans called for a change, and Wright helped Jeremy off the court.

“Captain Jameal Rose going back in for Jeremy Knox, who seems to have suffered an injury,” the commentator said as the home crowd greeted Jeremy’s arrival with wild enthusiasm. Coach Rhemann said something, then the cameras focused back to the court as Jeremy disappeared downstairs with the team medic.

“If he’s out for the season, we’re facing Penn State in the final,” Riko predicted.

Kevin just nodded, not trusting his voice right now.

The final minutes of the game were a blur. Kevin couldn’t have said if anyone else scored, only that the Trojans won the game.

The Trojans’ captain Jameal Rose and fifth-year backliner Chayton Locklear spoke with the press. Kevin was keenly aware of Riko tapping the remote against his leg, ready to switch off the TV as soon as he deemed it uninteresting.

“Is Knox injured?” one journalist asked at last. “The Round Four deathmatch game is in two weeks: will he be able to play?”

Rose took the question. “I haven’t spoken to Jeremy yet, but Coach said he’ll be fine. We’ll give you an official update later on our page, but I’m not worried.”

The conversation moved to fairness and sportsmanship, and Riko turned off the TV.

“Don’t they ever get tired of sucking it up to the ERC?” he asked.

“I don’t blame them,” Thea said. “Since they’re not good enough to beat us, they’ve got to find other ways to get trophies.”

“Bending down and grabbing their ankles?” Sean, their starting dealer, asked.

They all laughed.

“Knox would enjoy having the ERC fuck him with a Spirit Award trophy,” Riko said. The laughter got louder.

Kevin shared a quick look with Jean, but they both laughed too because morality was a luxury in the Nest, and neither of them could afford to pay the price.

“I’ll be right back,” Kevin said. He got up and left the room to lock himself in the bathroom. He texted Jeremy:

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** I hope you’re okay. You took quite a hit there.  
  


He waited for a reply for a couple of minutes but none came. He couldn’t wait any longer: he had to go back before Riko came looking for him. He made sure his phone was on silent, then slid it in his front pocket and went back to the entertainment room.

“Ready for practice?” Riko asked him when he saw him.

“Always.”

* * *

After practice, Riko and Kevin had a meeting with the Master to talk about their next game: the Round Four deathmatch against Princeton. The Tigers were a good team with a solid defense. Their backliners made even Kevin look tiny, so scoring would require excellent communication and perfect passes. Even more than usual. At Evermore, perfection was a starting point to improve upon.

They made a plan for the next three weeks of practices, then the Master dismissed them for the day. Riko had some reading to do for one of his classes, so Kevin slipped out of their room and went to Jean’s.

Jean’s roommate was playing pool with a couple of other Ravens, which meant Kevin and Jean had the bedroom to themselves. Kevin closed the door, leaned back against it, and checked his phone, vaguely aware of Jean’s eyes on him.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m still in one piece  
  
(not for lack of trying on gorilla’s part)  
  
i’m benched till wednesday but i should be cleared to play after that  
  
my shoulder is sore but i just need some rest and a few sessions with our massage therapist  
  
**Kevin:** Gorilla’s a fucker. I’m glad you’re okay. Ice it & get some rest!  
  


“How is he?” Jean asked.

“It’s his shoulder. He’s fine, though, just sore.”

“Good.” Jean got up and closed the distance between him and Kevin in a couple of steps. He placed his hands on Kevin’s hips. “I’m looking forward to marking him in a few weeks.”

“I cannot wait to see _that_.”

“It’s a wet dream of yours, isn’t it?”

Kevin smiled. “Occasionally.” He put his hands on Jean’s chest, splaying his fingers, feeling Jean’s heartbeat get faster at the touch.

Jean leaned in and kissed him. “How would you like it, being pressed between him and me?” Jean whispered, mouth ghosting over the sensitive skin of Kevin’s neck as he talked. “Me fucking you the way you like it, and Knox all tender kisses and careful hands all over your skin. Mhm? Would you like that?”

“Fuck, Jean.”

Jean’s lips were hot against his skin, a trail of kisses tracing a line between his jaw and the collar of his t-shirt. “Yeah?”

Kevin could feel Jean’s smile, the firm grip of his hands. He could feel him getting hard.

“Maybe after we win the championship? We could be his consolation prize,” Jean went on.

“I’m no consolation prize.”

Jean laughed softly. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Fucking stop talking already,” Kevin complained. He cupped Jean’s face with his hands and kissed him, hard and wet. Jean kissed him back, hands blindly finding their way into Kevin’s pants.

Kevin closed his eyes and lost himself in Jean.

* * *

Jeremy’s replies arrived hours later, after Kevin had gone to bed, gotten up again, and done his morning practice.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** don’t worry, i’ll be back to 100% for semis  
  


“I’ll hold you to it,” Kevin texted back. Then he added, “How’s your shoulder now?”

He was enjoying a rare hour of solitude in between two of his classes. He was lying in bed with his back propped up against a couple of pillows and a George Washington biography on his legs. Jeremy, however, was more interesting than _George_. (Which wasn’t something Kevin thought about a lot of people.)

**Jeremy:** hurts worse than last night :((  
  
**Kevin:** I’m sorry. What does your doctor say?  
  
**Jeremy:** that it’s normal. it’ll feel better in a couple of days  
  
rest, ice, the usual  
  
**Kevin:** Take it easy, okay?  
  
**Jeremy:** i will  
  
not that i have much of a choice  
  
took me 15 minutes to get a tshirt on this morning  
  
i’m glad we have a week off before the deathmatch  
  


In Kevin’s world, injuries were normal. Jean was playing with two broken fingers this month. Kevin had practiced with cracked ribs, a 102 fever, and on a sprained ankle—three different occasions—in this past four months alone.

At Evermore, if you couldn’t keep up, you were left behind. Injuries were routinely brushed off as mild inconveniences. You practiced until you couldn’t stand anymore, you played through the pain until you couldn’t move a hurt limb any longer.

Kevin went along with it because he didn’t have a choice but privately believed that their team would be stronger if players allowed themselves time to heal.

**Kevin:** :(  
  
At least it’s not your racquet arm  
  
**Jeremy:** FUCK. so true  
  
it was my first thought tbh  
  
**Kevin:** I get it. Anything but my left arm.  
  
Is Hector being helpful?  
  
**Jeremy:** kinda. he’s here on the couch with me  
  
too bad i’m the one doing the cuddling. i really wish i wasn’t single right now  
  


Jeremy sent a picture as proof: he was lying on the couch, left arm in a sling, and Hector sleeping on his chest. He looked tired. Kevin did what he was raised to do: he ignored it and changed the subject.

**Kevin:** He’s getting so big!  
  
**Jeremy:** i know!!  
  
can you believe he used to fit in my hand a few weeks ago?  
  
**Kevin:** I hope I’ll get to meet him.  
  
**Jeremy:** me too :)  
  


Kevin looked at the clock. Riko would be here soon. He wanted to keep texting Jeremy, but it would be too dangerous.

**Kevin:** I’ve gotta go.  
  
Rest your arm & let me know how it’s healing, okay?  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you, will do  
  



	10. Chapter 9: Wait for Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is there for Kevin on the anniversary of Kayleigh's death.

_Take a breath, just take a seat_  
_You're falling apart and tearing at the seams_  
_Heaven forbid you end up alone, you don't know why_  
_Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright_  
—“Heaven Forbid” by The Fray

## Chapter 9: Wait for Tomorrow

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** shoulder update: still sore, but getting better  
  
**Kevin:** That’s good! Keep icing it.  
  
**Jeremy:** i will  
  


* * *

Jeremy showed up for practice on Monday morning.

“I’m just here to support my team,” he told Rhemann before his coach had time to ask what on Earth he thought he was doing.

“You even think about picking up a racquet and I’m benching you till your senior year,” Rhemann threatened.

“I won’t even look at racquets,” Jeremy promised. He smiled brightly. “I’m really just here to enjoy the view of my teammates sweating it out on the court. Can we do a shirtless practice?”

Rhemann didn’t even bother to reply. “Jameal, do some warm-ups, then precision drills. Jeremy, you’re with me. You and I are going to watch some games.”

Laila gave Jeremy a quick hug. “Told you, you should’ve stayed in bed.”

“I’ll do some shirtless push-ups for you later,” Chayton promised.

Jameal pushed Chayton towards the court. “You’ll do three hundred for me now if you don’t start running. C’mon, guys! Get moving!”

Jeremy watched his teammates follow Jameal on the court, then joined Rhemann in his office and sat down on the leather couch in front of the TV.

“How’s your shoulder?” Rhemann asked after closing the door. “No bullshit answers.”

“Still sore, but better.”

Rhemann nodded. “I’d rather you skip a few extra practices and come back when you’re completely healed than—”

“I know, coach,” Jeremy interrupted. “I’ll be smart about it, I promise.”

“Good.”

The phone started ringing, and Rhemann went to his desk to pick up.

“Do you want me to—?” Jeremy nodded at the door and made to get up, but his coach gestured for him to stay.

While Rhemann talked with someone—most likely a journalist—Jeremy reached for his phone from his back pocket and started typing a message to Kevin. He’d been thinking about it a lot over the last couple of days and had changed his mind at least a dozen times, but he was now almost positive that it was the right decision. Kevin was his friend. All he was doing was offering support. He wasn’t crossing any boundaries. (Was he? No, he wasn’t, he decided.)

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hey, so… i know it’s the anniversary today  
  
and i might be fucking up by bringing it up because maybe you don’t want to think about it  
  
but it’s not the kind of thing you forget anyway right? so i hope it’s okay that i’m texting you  
  
i just wanted to say that i’m here for you and i’m sorry that today sucks  
  


He opened Instagram next. He had just finished reading a private message from one of his cousins when Kevin replied:

**Kevin:** Thank you. It means a lot that you texted me, I can’t even tell you how much. Today’s tough but you made it a bit better.  
  
**Jeremy:** i know you’ve got riko, but i’m here if you wanna talk  
  
like, about anything  
  
text me or call me, okay?  
  
**Kevin:** Would it really be okay if I called you?  
  


“of course!” Jeremy typed. He only had one class today since his History one had been canceled, and he could always step out of Political Philosophy if Kevin called him. This was more important than a class. “ANYTIME,” he added quickly.

Kevin texted him back right away:

**Kevin:** I’ve got practice in 10, I’ll call you after. Thank you, Jeremy.  
  


Rhemann hung up a minute later. They spent the next hour watching game tapes and discussing strategy, before going back to the court to watch the end-of-practice scrimmage. Jeremy sat in the locker room talking with his teammates while they showered and changed, then hitched a ride back to the dorms with Jaimie.

He read a few chapters due on Wednesday, then got started on a paper on Rousseau. (Writing three sentences counted as getting started, didn’t it?) He was skimming through his textbook for inspiration when his phone rang. It was Kevin.

“Hey,” he answered as he got up to close his bedroom door. His roommates were out at the moment but Jameal was probably coming back to the dorms soon.

“Hi, Jeremy. Thank you for—”

“Of course. I thought maybe I was overstepping, but I figured, we’re friends, right?” Jeremy admitted.

“We are.” There was a hint of doubt in Kevin’s voice, but Jeremy didn’t give it much weight. “So, how’s your shoulder?” Kevin asked.

Jeremy sat on the bed and rested his back against the pillows. “It’s fine. Still a bit sore. How are _you_? I mean, shit, that was a stupid question.”

_A really great start. Fuck._

Kevin ignored it. “You know, I barely even remember her. Most of what I know about her, I’ve been told by people who knew her. I have so few actual memories. If it weren’t for old interviews, I wouldn’t even remember what her voice sounded like. But I still miss her so much.”

The words came out slowly, as if Kevin was forcing himself to talk, as if he didn’t know how to talk about this. Jeremy knew the feeling.

“It feels like there’s a hole in your life, doesn’t it? Losing a parent,” he said quietly. He wanted Kevin to know that he got it.

“Yeah.” Kevin took a sharp breath. “Your mom?”

“My father. Uh, biological father. It’s complicated. It doesn’t matter. Uh, but yeah, I get it,” Jeremy said. It wasn’t a secret and he didn’t mind talking about it, but he didn’t want to take over the conversation. Today was about Kevin and his loss. No need to give him an accelerated course on Jeremy’s complicated family history. Kevin didn’t say anything, so Jeremy went on: “I hate that this is a phone call. I wish I could hug you. I’m not good at comforting people when I can’t hug them.”

He could hear a faint drumming in the background. It sounded like Kevin was tapping his fingers against his desk or maybe the cover of a book.

“You don’t have to say anything. It helps just to talk about it,” Kevin said but didn’t add anything else.

Jeremy gave him a few moments, but when the silence stretched on, he asked, “What do you remember about her? What’s your favorite memory?”

Kevin didn’t say anything for a while. Jeremy could still hear the nervous _tap-tap tap-tap_ in the background, so he knew Kevin was still there. He gave him time to think about it, or perhaps to collect himself.

Eventually, Kevin started talking. “I remember waking up in the back of the car after a long ride, maybe from the airport? I don’t know, it could have been from anywhere. I think we were in Ireland. I kept my eyes closed and I pretended to be asleep so she’d carry me to my bedroom. I don’t think I was very convincing, but she went along with it and picked me up anyway. She was warm. She smelled of flowers, I think?” His voice broke but he covered it up it by clearing his throat. “She carried me upstairs and tucked me into bed. She sat next to me, kissed my hair and rubbed my back until I fell asleep for real.”

“That’s a nice memory.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “And I remember watching her play. She was teaching someone, I think. I was sitting on the bench. I was angry because I wanted to play and she wouldn’t let me. She said it was dangerous for a kid to play with adults. Which is true, but back then I didn’t get it. I just wanted to play, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Kevin cleared his throat again. “I’ve seen videos of her playing. She was an average player, not a great one. Her aim was always a bit off to the left. She never really worked on it, I suppose. She never wanted to play, after all, she only wanted to teach other people how to play, how to coach. But, Jeremy, she was so elegant on the court. She made it look like she could bend the laws of physics to her will.”

Jeremy nodded before realizing Kevin couldn’t see him. He’d watched the rare videos of Kayleigh Day playing Exy. She’d never played a game, but she would often get on the court to show people how to play. Kevin was right: she hadn’t been a great player. But she’d had a unique style: an unmistakable mix of strength and elegance, ruthlessness and grace.

“I’ve seen videos, and you know who she reminded me of?” Jeremy said. “You.”

“I’m not like her.”

“I think you are. Your movements are accurate, deliberate, but elegant. Your plays are perfect, absolutely flawless, but they still have heart. That’s why I admire you more than Riko. Riko’s playing style is colder. Effective, for sure, but it makes me wonder if he even likes Exy, or if he just likes to win. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know he’s your brother and I’m sure he’s not a robot. But you? Watching you play is an _experience_, Kevin.”

“Do you really think I’m like her?”

Jeremy thought he could hear a smile in his voice, but he could have been wrong. “Yes,” he said. “And I think you’re exactly who she wanted you to be. She would be proud of the person she inspired you to become. She created this sport and you love playing it. It’s quite a gift she left you.”

“That was a very nice thing to say. Thank you,” Kevin said quietly.

Jeremy heard a sound—maybe a door opening?—and then a voice he didn’t recognize speaking French. Something about Riko? Was it Jean Moreau speaking?

“I’ve got to go,” Kevin said. He suddenly sounded like he was in a rush. “Thank you for listening.”

“Is everything okay?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, I just—I need to go. Bye, Jeremy.”

“Bye,” Jeremy said, but Kevin had already hung up.

What the hell had just happened? He wished Laila was here, maybe she would’ve been able to translate what Jean had said. Maybe it wasn’t even about Riko. Jeremy’s knowledge of French ended at _bonjour_ and _croissant_. Maybe Kevin was just late for practice.

But the urgency in Jean’s voice had sounded more like _The building is on fire_ than _We’ve got practice in five_.

He looked at Hector. “What do you think? Should I text him? I’m gonna text him.”

**Jeremy:** hey, you okay? did something happen?  
  
**Kevin:** Everything’s fine. As fine as it can be today.  
  
Thank you for listening.  
  
**Jeremy:** of course  
  
call me anytime  
  
i mean it  
  


He put down his phone and scratched Hector behind the ears. “Should we eat something before class?” he asked the cat. “Let’s eat something.”

* * *

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop!”

Laila stopped and sighed. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“It hurts,” Jeremy complained. They were at the gym and she was helping him with some stretches for his shoulder; it was not going well. “Let Jaimie try. He’s gentler than you are.”

“I’m gentle,” Laila muttered, but went looking for their friend and came back a moment later with a shirtless and sweaty Jaimie.

_Fuck_. According to the physical therapist, Jeremy should try to relax as much as possible while doing the prescribed exercises: That was not gonna happen now.

Jaimie toweled himself off, then sat next to Jeremy, straddling the bench.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Show me what to do,” Jaimie said, speaking and signing at the same time. Laila had been picking up some sign language, like most Trojans, but she could still only understand less than half of what Jaimie signed.

Jeremy showed him the exercise with his good arm. “Be gentle, okay?”

Jaimie smiled and drew a couple of large circles in the air, index finger pointing to the ceiling. _Always_. He put a hand on Jeremy’s left shoulder and the other on his elbow to guide him through the movement.

Laila was sitting on Jeremy’s other side. “Breathe,” she reminded him as Jaimie slowly moved his arm up. She held his hand.

Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d been doing much better the day before, but this morning’s P.T. session had left his shoulder stiff and sore. Knowing it’d feel much better in a couple of days didn’t help right now.

Jaimie scooted closer. “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

“No. Go on,” Jeremy said through gritted teeth. It took him a couple of seconds to realize Jaimie couldn’t read his lips right now, so he let go of Laila’s hand and signed it. “I could use a distraction, though,” he added.

“The parents are in Bali until next week,” Laila said. “So, I was thinking, we could stay at their house this weekend?”

Laila’s parents had a beautiful house by the beach just outside of L.A. The Trojans had had their end-of-the-year party there last year, and epic would be too tame a word to describe it. Her idea sounded great, but—

“Saturday’s the 21st,” Jeremy said.

She knew what he meant, he didn’t have to say it: March 21st was the anniversary of Henry’s death—his biological father.

“I know. That’s why I thought it might be a good idea. We can hang out and distract you?”

Jeremy wasn’t sure he’d been in the mood to be around people. “I don’t know.”

“Are you planning on flying home for the weekend?” Jaimie asked.

“No.” He’d thought about it. There was no game on Friday, and he only had one class in the morning. He could leave after that, skip afternoon practice, and fly to Seattle. Be with his family. Rhemann would understand, even though it was championship season; he’d seen what the end of March had done to Jeremy last year. In the end, however, he’d decided to stay in California. He didn’t need the stress of traveling alone, and he wasn’t sure he would have the energy for it. “Can I—_ow_—Can I think about it?”

Laila gave his knee a comforting squeeze. “Of course.”

“How’s it going over here?” Rhemann asked.

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked up at him. “Great.”

“So great that you need two friends helping you?” Rhemann watched him repeat the exercise, then made his decision: “Finish the set, then go ice that shoulder. I want you to see the medic first thing tomorrow morning, and I expect an update as soon as you’re done.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Rhemann addressed the team next. “Gear up. I want you all on the court in ten minutes for a scrimmage. Wright, you’ll join us as soon as you and Knox are finished here. Dermott, hand-holding is a valuable skill in life but won’t help us win championship. Let’s go.”

The Trojans moved loudly to the locker room. Laila kissed Jeremy on the cheek and followed them.

“You’re seeing Coolridge this week?” Jaimie asked once they were alone.

Jeremy nodded. “This afternoon and then again on Friday morning. And I’ve got three sessions scheduled for next week.”

Doctor Coolridge had been his therapist for a year and a half now, since he’d moved to California. He usually saw her once or twice a month, but he’d scheduled several extra sessions for the upcoming weeks. Last spring had been rough on him and he was hoping this year would go a bit better. March was never going to be an easy month, but there was a difference between feeling sad and being unable to get out of bed for three days.

“I’m here for you, you know that, right?” Jaimie waited for him to nod. “Laila, too. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy signed.

Jaimie let go of his arm. “You’re gonna be okay?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Go change before coach R. comes looking for you. I’ll take a shower, and then come and watch you play.”

“Not what I meant,” Jaimie signed as he got up.

“I know.” Jeremy touched the side of his forehead with his fingertips, then rubbed at his shoulder.

He really needed his shoulder to get better fast. Communicating with Jaimie had been tiring for both of them: signing one-handed wasn’t ideal, and lip-reading was a nightmare for Jaimie. He needed to be able to talk to his best friend easily. He wasn’t going to get past the next two weeks without Jaimie’s full support.

“I’ll be okay,” he promised.

He took his time showering and getting dressed, then grabbed an ice pack and went to sit on the bench to watch his teammates play. Half an hour later, while the rest of the team got changed, he checked his phone. He replied to a couple of messages from his sisters and confirmed his therapy appointment for this evening after practice.

He didn’t have any new messages from Kevin, but he opened their chat anyway. He had decided not to worry about the abrupt end to their conversation yesterday. Something must have happened, that much had been clear from Jean’s tone, but it was probably a Raven thing. Maybe a fight had broken out in the dorm, or someone had gotten hurt. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was how Kevin was holding up this week.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hey, how are you doing today?  
  
**Kevin:** Honest answer? Not good but better than yesterday.  
  
**Jeremy:** can i help?  
  
**Kevin:** No. But thank you for offering.  
  


Jeremy thought about their friendship. They’d been texting a fair amount in the past couple of months and they’d trusted each other with confidential information, but he hadn’t expected Kevin to take him up on his offer to talk yesterday. He was glad he could help, at least a little, but it made him wonder why Kevin hadn’t talked to Riko or someone else on the team about it.

Maybe Kevin found it easier to talk to someone he didn’t know that well, someone he didn’t see every day. Or maybe Riko wasn’t a heart-to-heart kind of person. It still felt like something was off, though. Riko was his brother; they’d grown up together; they were supposed to be inseparable. It didn’t add up.

Laila’s voice broke his train of thoughts. “Need a ride?”

“Yes, I’ve got a tutoring session in thirty minutes.”

He walked out of the stadium with her, loosely holding her hand.

* * *

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** can i ask you a question?  
  
**Kevin:** Sure.  
  


Jeremy took his time trying to find the right words. He still wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. Maybe he had no right to ask. Maybe he was completely wrong. (Hell, he hoped he was wrong!) Maybe Kevin would take it the wrong way. Maybe it would ruin their friendship.

It wasn’t any of his business, after all. His therapist had warned him he was focusing too much on Kevin to avoid thinking about his own grief. She was probably right. But Jeremy just couldn’t let it go. He’d thought a lot about it over the past couple of days, and he’d reread his entire text history with Kevin. (Fine, he definitely was obsessing about it a little.) He was almost certain that something was off even though he couldn’t have said what exactly.

**Jeremy:** i’m probably wrong and shouldn’t worry and i definitely shouldn’t ask  
  
but  
  
is everything okay between you and riko?  
  
you kinda shut down or tense up every time his name comes up  
  
and it looked like he wasn’t really there for you on monday  
  
i mean, i wasn’t there, so i don’t really know, but it felt like it?  
  
and i’m probably overstepping by asking about it but you’re my friend and i’m worried and so i’m asking anyway  
  


He looked at his phone as Kevin typed for a long time. But, not for the first time, the message Kevin eventually sent had clearly been rewritten or at least shortened.

**Kevin:** It’s nice of you to worry, but nothing’s changed, Riko and I are as strong as ever.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m glad to hear that :)  
  


Either Jeremy had been wrong, or Kevin didn’t want to talk about it. Probably the former. Almost certainly the former. It wouldn’t be the first time Jeremy’s anxiety built up conspiracy theories in his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick at turning down some stronger anti-anxiety medication.

His phone beeped again.

**Kevin:** How’s your shoulder?  
  


After being in pain all day on Tuesday and almost crying when the massage therapist had dug his fingers into his stiff muscles on Wednesday morning, Jeremy had woken up this morning feeling much better. His shoulder was still tender to the touch now, after a light practice, but it felt much looser and he could move his arm almost without any trouble. He was glad there was no game tomorrow because he didn’t think he could have played, but he knew he would be completely healed by Monday morning.

**Jeremy:** all better  
  
well, it’s a bit sore now, but that’s because i had practice this morning  
  
**Kevin:** Don’t overdo it. You don’t want to get injured again.  
  
**Jeremy:** i promise i’ll be careful :)  
  


He closed the convo and opened the group chat with Laila and Jaimie. “i’ve thought about it and i think a change of scenery this weekend might be good,” he wrote. “just us three, though?”

Jaimie was in class right now, but he sent a couple of thumbs-up emojis anyway. Laila replied a few minutes later: “Of course! I’m glad you changed your mind, Jere.”


	11. Chapter 10: Here Comes the Rain Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy leans on his friends during a tough week.

_Here comes the rain again  
Falling from the stars  
Drenched in my pain again  
Becoming who we are  
_—“Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day

## Chapter 10: Here Comes the Rain Again

On Saturday, Jeremy woke up in Laila’s childhood bedroom. They’d left the window open the night before, and a cool breeze was making the lacy lilac curtains swell and dance. Jaimie was sleeping in the guest bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway, but Laila was curled up against Jeremy’s back, her arm around his waist, her hair tickling his neck.

He buried his face into the pillow as the weight of the day sank over him. It was a few minutes before he could move. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Hundreds of colorful origami cranes hang from the exposed beams. He closed his eyes and went through a breathing exercise. He had just completed the cycle when he felt Laila stir and scoot even closer. He opened his eyes slowly.

Laila rested her pale hand on his chest. She had a tattoo on her wrist, four words wrapping around it in elegant lettering like a bracelet. He knew it so well he could read it even in the low light: _l’amour est notre résistance._ Love is our resistance. Jeremy ran his finger over it.

“Hey,” she whispered. There wasn’t anything else to say today, so she didn’t even try. She kissed his temple, and then his shoulder—three times, in rapid succession—before pulling him into a hug.

He held on to her, taking a few shaky breaths as she rubbed his back.

“Weather forecast for today: anxious skies with high chance of panic attacks,” he said after a few minutes when his voice felt steadier.

“I heard there’s a zero percent chance you’ll be alone.” Laila held him tighter. “How about some food? Think we can make Jaimie cook us breakfast?”

“Yeah, in three hours when he wakes up.”

“I’ll wake him up right now.”

He shook his head. “No. Let’s make breakfast, just you and I. Like on Halloween.”

He had fond memories of cooking eggs and bacon for the entire team the morning after their freshman year Halloween party: his arms still stained red from cheap fake blood; Laila with smudged eyeliner and messy white and black hair from her Cruella de Vil costume, and wearing one of Jeremy’s hoodies; sharing stories and secrets and cups of coffee.

There would be time for long conversations with Jaimie tomorrow when he would be strong enough to handle them. Jaimie was always good at soothing his anxiety. But today he needed grounding. Today he needed Laila.

She kissed his shoulder again, then let him go. “Like on Halloween. I like that.”

She got up, stretched, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She had buttery blond hair, but Jeremy had only seen her natural color in pictures. He’d known her for a year and a half and he’d seen her with at least a dozen different hair colors, from jet black to pastel blue, from strawberry blond with hot pink ends to purple and lilac. Last year, she’d dyed it rainbow for Pride Month. Right now, it was a soft peach color that suited her well.

“I’ll call my mom and then I’ll join you,” he said.

She nodded and padded to the kitchen. He reached for his phone. He had a text from Cecilia telling him to call her when he woke up, a “Love you, kiddo” from his dad, fifteen messages full of love and support from his twin, and a missed call from his mom. He was about to call back his mother when he received a call from Cassandra.

“Hey, Cass.”

“Hi, Jerebear.”

“You know it’s like 7 AM here on the west coast, right?” he asked.

“Yes, I know how time zones work. I also know Mom called you already and you didn’t pick up. She’s worried.”

He sighed. “I’ll call her back in a minute. I was sleeping.”

“You’re not alone, are you?” she asked, using her Big Sister voice.

“No. Laila and Jaimie are here with me.”

“Good.” He heard the relief in her voice. “How are you holding up?”

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Not well, but I’ll be okay eventually. You?”

“I’m good. I don’t care. He was a fucking asshole—”

“Cass!”

“—who left us when we needed him and—”

“Cass, I don’t wanna hear it!” he said more sternly. More desperately. “Not today. _Please_. I know what he did, I’m not saying that was okay, but just—not today, alright?”

Her voice softened as his strained. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She sighed. “I guess I’m still angry.”

“Do you—?”

“Feel guilty about it? Sometimes,” she admitted. “But he screwed us over and fucked us up, Jere. And what he did to you—We shouldn’t feel guilty.”

He pressed his lips together, eyes burning with tears. “He was still our father.”

“Exactly. He should have been there for us. He should—” She stopped talking. He knew what she was going to say, they’d had this argument so many times, but he was grateful that she didn’t say it today. “Listen, I love you and I’m here for you, but it’s probably best if you call Mom or Justice right now.”

He sighed. She was right, of course.

“Mom’s angry, too.”

“Yeah, but she’s better than I am at hiding it from you. Call her, okay? She’s worried.”

“I’ll call her right now,” he promised. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Jerebear.”

He swallowed his tears, took a few deep breaths, and made sure his voice was steady before calling his mother. He let her words comfort him and reassured her several times that he wasn’t alone and that he was going to be okay.

He texted Cecilia next (“call you tomorrow, not feeling like talking today. love you”), then his dad (“love you too, dad. thank you for always being there for me”) and Justice (a simple string of hearts: she knew him well enough to know he was too tired to reply properly today but would text her back once he felt better.)

He took a few more slow breaths before getting up and joining Laila in the kitchen. He hugged her from behind and buried his face in her hair.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he said.

She put down the knife she was holding and turned around to hug him back. “It didn’t go well?”

“It went—as expected. Mom is worried, Cassandra is angry, I haven’t talked to Cece but I know she’s angry too, and Dad feels guilty for taking his place or something,” he said.

His father had left when he was a child. His mother had remarried a couple of years later: he was the man Jeremy thought of as his dad, not Henry. Not Henry, who had left when they needed him the most, who had—

Jeremy focused back on Laila.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he told her.

She rubbed his back. “Do you want to talk?”

“No. I want to cook breakfast, and then eat it and maybe watch cartoons or something.”

“We’ll do that then,” she said, but she didn’t let him go until he did.

She was only a couple of inches shorter than he was; he got on tiptoes to kiss the top of her head before breaking the hug.

“Do you want to talk about girls?”

“Yes, please,” he said. He could really use the distraction.

She picked the knife back up and started cutting up strawberries and bananas while she talked. “I think Sara has a crush on me.”

“Sara—Wait, Sara _Alvarez_?”

Laila nodded. “I’m pretty sure she’s been flirting with me.”

Jeremy thought back to the last few times he’d been out with the two girls. He hadn’t paid them much attention, too busy making sure Taylor didn’t catch him staring at Jaimie, but now that Laila had mentioned it—He remembered Sara laughing at Laila’s jokes, even the bad ones; touching her arm; playing with her hair.

“Damn, I think you’re right,” he said. “And? Do you like her?”

He stole a few pieces of fruit and munched on them as he fried bacon strips.

“She’s cute.”

“She’s _very _cute,” he agreed.

“I think I want to ask her out on a date,” she said carefully, as though she was asking for his opinion more than stating her own.

He leaned against the counter with his hip and looked at her. “Go for it.” He looked at her. “I’m serious, go for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She’s awesome.”

She smiled. “She is.”

“You deserve awesome.”

* * *

Jeremy went to every practice that week and didn’t skip a single class, but spent the rest of his time holed up in his room, mostly lying in bed. A note from his therapist had gotten him extensions on all of his schoolwork, which was good because he didn’t have the energy nor the focus to deal with it.

He was getting through it, thanks to frequent phone calls to his family; his friends and teammates checking in on him and making sure he was getting enough food, water and hugs; and the occasional Xanax.

Today, however, he was feeling even worse. He was exhausted and had been dealing with a bad anxiety attack since last night. He texted Rhemann that he needed the afternoon off, curled up in bed with Hector, and tried to get some sleep.

Jameal brought him dinner when he came back from practice, and they ate together in silence watching a re-run of Kathy Ferdinand’s program from that morning with an exclusive interview with Kevin and Riko. The Sons of Exy were wearing identical black suits, which Jeremy thought was a bit unfair to Riko: Kevin clearly wore it much better with his long legs and slim frame. They talked about the championship and how they couldn’t wait to start playing with the national team.

The distraction eased Jeremy’s anxiety a little, but it was a short-lived relief. It was back in full swing an hour later while he was taking a shower, and it was almost fifteen minutes before he managed to stop crying.

The anniversary of his father’s death had knocked him down to his knees, and now this—_this_ was taking his breath away and kicking him to the ground. _This_. The other anniversary. The other death. His boyfriend’s.

Today was _unbearable_.

He forced himself to get dressed in comfortable pants and a t-shirt and went back to his room. Jaimie was sitting on his bed, dressed up for a date, probably waiting there for him to say bye before going.

“Fancy date?” Jeremy asked, glad he didn’t have to talk because God, he felt a lump in his throat the size of a fist.

Jaimie didn’t reply. Instead, he got up and walked to him. “Shit, Jeremy. How bad is it right now?”

Jeremy took a deep breath. “Pretty bad,” he admitted.

“Okay, just give me a second.” Jaimie pulled out his phone and started tapping on it.

Jeremy touched his arm to get his attention. “What are you doing?”

Jaimie looked down and tapped on his screen a few more times before replying. “I texted Taylor to cancel. Now let me just get into more comfortable clothes, and then I’m going to give you the longest hug ever. We’re going to break the World Record tonight, whatever that is. We’ll have to look it up.”

“It’s like 24 hours?” Jeremy signed.

“I love that you know that.”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be okay. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“You’re my best friend, you’re not getting in between anything. Taylor will understand.” Jaimie rubbed Jeremy’s arms. “Get into bed, I’ll be with you in five minutes, and we can watch Riko and Kevin’s new interview.”

“I’ve watched it earlier with Jameal,” Jeremy admitted.

“Traitor. I was waiting for you.”

Jeremy managed a weak smile. “We can watch it again. I don’t mind.”

After giving Jeremy’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, Jaimie went to his bedroom to change. Jeremy turned on his laptop and got comfortable on the bed. Knowing that his best friend would be here helped a lot, but he was still feeling weighed down, still feeling on edge, still feeling _too much_.

Jaimie came back a few minutes later wearing shorts and a hoodie and, as promised, pulled Jeremy into a hug. His arms were strong around Jeremy’s shoulders and his body was a familiar refuge. Jeremy sank into him and trusted Jaimie to hold him up.

“I’m sorry I made plans for tonight,” Jaimie signed later when they were still close but no longer hugging. “I honestly thought it was tomorrow. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re here, that’s what matters.” Jeremy looked him in the eye. “Thank you for staying.”

While Jaimie looked for a video of Kathy Ferdinand’s show with close-captioning, Jeremy checked his messages. He ignored most of them but opened Laila’s.

**Chat with “****Laila****”**  
  
**Laila:** Unfortunately The Parents are still holding me hostage :( I feel like this is the longest family dinner EVER  
  
I’m sorry I’m not there with you. How are you holding up? Who’s with you?  
  
**Jeremy:** don’t worry, jaimie is here  
  
i’ll be okay  
  
come and give me a hug when you come back?  
  
**Laila:** You bet ♥  
  
**Jeremy:** ♥♥♥  
  


“Found it,” Jaimie announced after a while.

“Spoiler alert: you’re going to hate how much better Kevin looks than Riko. I swear his legs go all the way up to Canada.”

“Spoiler alert: I’m going to disagree with you on that. They posted pictures on Instagram and my boy Riko wears that suit like a god.”

“Kevin wears it like a god who’s almost a foot taller.”

“_Half_ a foot!” Jaimie corrected.

“Seven inches. Whatever. It feels more like ten in that suit.”

Their usual banter was like a balm on his raw skin, and Jeremy felt some of his anxiety melt away. Jaimie clicked Play and Jeremy snuggled up against his side to watch.

* * *

On Thursday, Jeremy started breathing a little easier, and on Friday night, he managed to go to sleep without taking any pills thanks to a long therapy session in the morning and the endorphins flowing through his system after a hard-earned victory on the court.

On Saturday morning, he woke up feeling rested for the first time in two weeks. He called Laila and they went for a run together. On the way back to the dorms, they stopped at a café for breakfast and she told him all about her first date with Sara over coffee and eggs benedict. Back at the dorms, he took a quick shower and gathered his books: he wanted to spend the day at the library to catch up on schoolwork. He put his phone on silent as soon as he got there, and texted Jameal to tell him he had to skip their extra practice this week to study.

He had a new message from Kevin. He tried to ignore it: he could reply later, after getting some work done. But his mind kept going back to it and distracting him from the paper he was trying to write, so he decided to read it.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Kevin:** Hey, Jeremy. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you’re good.  
  


It wasn’t exactly the message he was hoping for after disappearing on Kevin for ten days, but it wasn’t like Kevin knew what he’d been through. He’d considered telling him but there hadn’t really been a good time. And it still wasn’t: he was barely back on his feet, he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet.

**Jeremy:** hey kevin  
  
last week was kinda tough for me  
  
i’m doing better now  
  
i’ll be blowing up your phone again soon, i promise :)  
  
did you miss me? :))  
  
**Kevin:** I did miss you! I’m sorry you had a hard time. Anything I can help with?  
  
**Jeremy:** you just did  
  
you made my day by telling me you missed me :))  
  
**Kevin:** :)  
  


Jeremy exhaled slowly. He was about to put down his phone when he saw that Kevin was typing a new message.


	12. Chapter 11: Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ravens and Trojans play their semi-final games against Penn State.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: mentions of rape.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I've been crazy-busy at work this week, and I haven't had the energy to reply to comments. I have read and I appreciate every single one of them, and I'm super grateful. I will reply as soon as things calm down a little. In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this week's chapter. ♥

_Best,  
You've got to be the best  
You've got to change the world  
And use this chance to be heard  
Your time is now  
_—“Butterflies & Hurricanes” by Muse

## Chapter 11: Butterflies

Kevin pulled his blanket tighter over his head as he re-read the last few texts. At the very top of the chat, there was still that “anytime, kevin” that Jeremy had texted him weeks ago. He closed his eyes for a moment, then typed a new message:

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** I’m here if you want to talk.  
  


He could go to the bathroom, or maybe even sneak outside. Riko was sleeping soundly, so it was risky but not excessively so. He would need to keep his voice low. How was he going to explain that to Jeremy? Maybe he could tell him he didn’t want to be overheard by the rest of the team. He could make it work.

Still, he was relieved when Jeremy turned down his offer.

**Jeremy:** thank you  
  
i spent two hours with my therapist yesterday so i’m all talked out right now, but i truly appreciate the offer  
  
**Kevin:** Are you really doing better now?  
  
**Jeremy:** you know how anniversaries are but yes, i’m doing better now  
  
anyway  
  
subtle (!) change of subject  
  
what have you been up to?  
  


Kevin was glad that Jeremy kept the conversation going. He was feeling too jittery to sleep, and he didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts.

He had thought often about texting Jeremy during the last week or so, but he’d been scared. Riko had almost walked in on him talking to Jeremy on the phone. If Jean hadn’t warned him in time—

But no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn't give Jeremy up.

**Kevin:** Same old, same old. Exy, school, more Exy.  
  
Oh, but I did get to take some pictures when we went to Kathy’s show on Wednesday.  
  
**Jeremy:** awesome. can i see them?  
  


Kevin opened his Gallery and thumbed through his pictures. Riko had chosen four Ravens to accompany them on their trip to Raleigh to film Kathy’s show. On the way back, Kevin had ended up in Thea’s car with Jean sitting in the back. He’d made her stop several times to take pictures. She’d teased him lightly for it but indulged him. It had been the most fun he’d had off the court in weeks.

He selected a few pictures and sent them to Jeremy. Landscapes, one of Jean sleeping in the car, one of Thea laughing.

**Jeremy:** kevin, they’re stunning  
  
(but you failed to capture the most beautiful subject: yourself)  
  
((jean’s really cute though))  
  
**Kevin:** Still not flirting with me, Knox?  
  
**Jeremy:** still disappointed that i’m not? :))  
  
maybe i’m flirting with jean :))  
  
c’mon, you really didn’t take any selfies?  
  


Kevin smiled. He couldn’t wait to tell Jean that the _sunshine child_ thought he was _cute_.

He went back to the Gallery. He’d taken a picture with Jean but he didn’t want to share that one, not even with Jeremy. He sent him a candid picture Thea had taken with his phone instead. With wind-swept hair and a thoughtful expression, he didn’t look much like the Kevin Day that had charmed Kathy Ferdinand and her audience.

**Jeremy:** wow!!!  
  
that messy hair!! it looks so good  
  
maybe i will start flirting with you :))  
  
you should post that on instagram  
  
**Kevin:** My Instagram’s for official pictures.  
  
**Jeremy:** then i’m glad i got to see it  
  
ugh, i really have to go. i’ve got tons of homework  
  
talk soon  
  


Kevin texted him a quick goodbye, then deleted the messages. He considered keeping a couple to show Jean, but it would have been too dangerous. Jean would just have to take his word for it.

He looked at the time. He had a little less than three hours before his alarm. He should really try to get some rest.

* * *

The Ravens’ second game against Penn State, this time during the semi-finals, was even more brutal than the first. After three fights, seven injuries, and a record number of twelve red cards, the game ended 14-9 in the Ravens’ favor.

Riko celebrated by having Jean raped by the entire Ravens line. As a reward for playing so well, he said.

Kevin had to stand there silent while Jean—_his Jean_—begged Riko to stop. While Riko laughed at Jean’s whimpers. While Riko enjoyed Jean’s pain.

Later, while Riko was busy fucking the three girls on the team—“Because they deserved a prize, too,” he’d said—Kevin sat on the floor of Jean’s room next to the bed and held Jean’s hand as he sobbed into the pillow. Kevin wished he could give him more comfort than this, but Jean couldn’t handle being touched right now and there was nothing to say.

He wanted to kill Riko that night. He wanted to take one of his knives and stab him. He wanted to make him suffer the way he was making Jean suffer.

He didn’t do anything. He just held Jean’s hand for as long as he could and then left him alone, went back to the room he shared with Riko, and got into bed.

He hated himself for that.

* * *

A week later, Kevin and the Ravens watched as Penn State played another violent game, this time against the Trojans. By the end of the game, the Lions had managed to get three Trojan players injured and had gotten four red cards. If no fights broke out was only because the Trojans took the high road every single time, kept their heads in the game, and scored points instead of getting into brawls.

There were two particularly tense moments. One at the beginning of the game, when a Lion backliner—Martinez—broke Trojan striker Carter’s wrist two minutes after she’d gone in for their concussed captain Jameal Rose. Jeremy had to forcefully hold back one of their backliners who looked ready to kill Martinez. Then, towards the end of the first half, a comment directed at the Trojans’ dealer Wright had Jeremy march to half-line with murder in his eyes. It was Wright who stepped in, took Jeremy by the shoulders, and guided him back to his position.

After this game, Kevin supposed he might as well start working on his speech to award the Trojans their umpteenth Spirit Award next year. No other team would have kept their cool like they did.

They were even nice in post-game interviews. Jeremy called the game “hard-fought and intense”—which was the understatement of the century—and praised their rivals for their “fierceness”—which was simply a lie.

Wright was standing right next to Jeremy in the press room, an arm casually slung around his shoulders. When he took a question and the cameras focused on him, Kevin realized who he was: James Wright was Jeremy’s best friend, the Jaimie that kept popping up on his Instagram. Kevin should have realized it sooner, but he hadn’t been paying him much attention, too focused on Jeremy.

Two years ago, the media had made a big deal about USC recruiting a Deaf player for the first time in college Exy history. Riko had accused them of working the media and only doing it for the attention and the good press, but Kevin had seen Wright play and had privately disagreed. A player with his talent belonged on one of best three teams in the nation, and Kevin could see him being invited to join the US Court in a few years.

They asked him about the incident from earlier: he dismissed it as inconsequential. “The stakes are high, and sometimes people say things they shouldn’t say. But I wouldn’t be here if I let similar incidents bother me. We won the game. That’s what matters,” he said, as Jeremy nodded along beside him.

“You’re facing the Ravens in two weeks. With Riko and Kevin on their line, how do you see your chances?” a journalist asked.

Kevin held his breath, praying to any god who’d listen that Jeremy wouldn’t mention their friendship.

Jeremy flashed the cameras a toothy smile. “We can’t wait to face the Ravens. I’m sure it’ll be a good game. Playing against Kevin and Riko will be an honor.”

Kevin didn’t miss how Jeremy had swapped their names: Kevin first, Riko second. Neither did Jean, judging by the sudden tension in his muscles. Luckily, the press and, more importantly, Riko didn’t seem to notice.

“I can’t wait to wipe that smile off his face,” Riko said in Japanese. He turned off the TV, then addressed the whole team in English. “I have a paper to write, so be quiet.”

He disappeared into his room with Kevin obediently following him.

Sitting on the bed with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, Kevin pretended to read a History book but actually took advantage of Riko’s focus on his schoolwork to text Jeremy.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Congrats on winning against Penn :))  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you  
  
tbh i’m glad that penn is out, but it’s too bad you won’t be coming to cali next week  
  
hector is very disappointed  
  


Since Penn State had lost both semi-final games, the ERC was bound to cancel next week’s game. The Trojans and Ravens would be facing each other in the final in two weeks instead. Like almost every year, Edgar Allan was hosting the final.

**Kevin:** So am I. But we’ll still see each other in a couple of weeks :)  
  
**Jeremy:** i can’t wait!  
  
**Kevin:** Are you looking forward to losing championship again? :))  
  
**Jeremy:** shut up  
  
i’m looking forward to seeing you  
  
and don’t write us out just yet, we’ve got a good team this year  
  
**Kevin:** You need strikers after tonight. Right now you are the whole offensive line. You’re good, but last I checked you cannot play two full halves.  
  


USC had already posted on their page that Beatrice Carter was out for the season with a broken wrist. Their captain, Jameal Rose, had suffered a concussion and was being checked out for other injuries. His presence in the final would depend on how he would heal in the next two weeks.

Kevin knew the Trojan line-up by heart. They had nine strikers on their line this year, but five of them were very inexperienced and nowhere ready to face the Ravens. That left Jeremy and a junior striker from Las Vegas who’d gotten less playtime this season than Kevin had in last week’s game alone.

**Jeremy:** we’ve got bowman and angus  
  
**Kevin:** They’re sloppy, slow, and crack easily under pressure.  
  
**Jeremy:** ouch  
  
you are a harsh critic, kevin  
  
**Kevin:** I’m honest, and you know I’m right.  
  
**Jeremy:** they made a few mistakes tonight but they still played a good game  
  


Was Jeremy fucking kidding? Did he think he was talking to the press right now, or did he really believe in his teammates that much? He was a fool if he did. His teammates were good, no doubt about it. USC had high recruiting standards, after all. But they weren’t championship-final-against-the-Ravens-ready.

**Kevin:** They missed seven shots at goal. Seven. If you hadn’t been there to save two of them, we’d be facing Penn in finals instead of you.  
  
**Jeremy:** five, not seven  
  
and as you said, we still scored on two of them  
  
as a team we only missed three  
  
**Kevin:** They missed seven between the two of them, and it’s six too many considering you won the game by a two-point margin.  
  
**Jeremy:** five. trust me, i was there  
  
**Kevin:** Seven. Trust me, I was watching closely.  
  


Jeremy called him.

Kevin’s face went white when he saw “J. is calling you” in the middle of his screen.

_Fuck._

He shot a look at Riko: he hadn’t noticed anything. Thankfully, Kevin’s phone was always on silent mode. He got up, hiding his phone up the sleeve of his sweater.

“I need to ask Jean about an assignment,” he muttered, heading for the door and hoping Riko wouldn’t stop him. Luckily, Riko didn’t even reply and just went back to his paper. Kevin walked outside, taking the stairs two at a time. The fresh air hit his lungs like a slap. He looked at his phone: Jeremy had dropped the call. He was probably wondering why Kevin hadn’t picked up.

After quickly thinking of an excuse, Kevin called him back. Jeremy answered on the fourth ring.


	13. Chapter 12: Hurricanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Kevin have a disagreement, and Jeremy worries about his friend.

_Fights and battles have begun  
Revenge will surely come  
Your hard times are ahead  
_—“Butterflies & Hurricanes” by Muse

## Chapter 12: Hurricanes

“Are you coming already?” Laila asked. “Just let it go.”

Jeremy waited one more ring before giving up and disconnecting the call. Fine. If Kevin didn’t want to talk, Jeremy was going to text him.

“I’m not letting it go,” he told Laila. “He’s wrong.”

Chayton rolled his eyes. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“Just come inside and celebrate with us,” Laila said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the door. “You can have angry phone sex with Kevin Day tomorrow.”

Chayton laughed. Jeremy opened his mouth to protest but just then his phone started ringing: Kevin.

“I’ll join you in ten minutes,” he promised and stepped away from the entrance door of the club to have some quiet and privacy. “Five,” he said into the phone instead of _Hello_.

“I was—” Kevin didn’t finish the sentence, perhaps an explanation for not answering the call right away?, and picked up their discussion from where they’d left it. “Seven, not five. Period. Which ones are you not counting?” Kevin didn’t give him time to reply and went on: “Let me guess: the corner shot at the end of the first half, and the one right after Penn scored for the fifth time?”

“Those were impossible shots. They don’t count.”

Kevin scoffed. “I would’ve scored. They count.”

“Well, we can’t all be Kevin Day,” Jeremy said with a smile. “We all aspire to be you, but it can’t be the standard we set for ourselves or we’ll always fall short and feel like failures.”

“They shouldn’t try to be as good as I am: they should try to be better. How else are they going to improve?”

Jeremy leaned back against the wall. “Kev, we are _always_ trying to get better. Making mistakes is part of it. We learn from them and we don’t write people off because of them,” he explained. “We try our best and push ourselves to improve, but we don’t beat ourselves up if we can’t be perfect every single time. We’re good _as a team_; we won _as a team_. Their mistakes don’t matter because the team made up for them and we still won. The total is greater than the sum of its parts, or whatever. Is there room for improvement? Of course. I agree: they have a lot to learn, but they have talent and heart. They’ll get better. They need time and a few more championship games under their belts. They were nervous. They didn’t even think they would play tonight.”

It was supposed to be just him, Jameal, and Bea, with Sam and Oliver as a back-up. Their freshman strikers weren’t supposed to get any playtime tonight, not against Penn State. But with Jameal and Bea injured within ten minutes, Rhemann hadn’t been left with much of a choice. Jeremy remembered very well what it had been like to play his first championship games. Considering their inexperience, the stakes of the game, and how dirty the Lions had played, they had all done well.

“Next time they won’t get in their heads,” he told Kevin. “And I know they’ll give 150% during the final and it could be enough. If not, they’ll learn and be better next year.”

Kevin laughed. “And that’s why Rhemann couldn’t have made a better choice, _Captain Knox_. But how do you think I got to be so good?”

“I hope it’s by practicing a lot and having god-level talent. Not by beating yourself up for every little mistake,” Jeremy said honestly. “You’ve gotta be kind to yourself, Kevin.”

“I don’t think kindness can take you all the way to the top,” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

It shouldn’t have surprised Jeremy: the Ravens were known for lots of things but being kind was not one of them. Still, there was a difference between how a team played during a game and how the players behaved during practice and off the court.

The Trojans played clean and didn’t get into fights, but they were still an aggressive team. They played fair but didn’t forgive any mistakes the opposing team made. They never humiliated their opponents with a wider point gap than necessary, but they didn’t underestimate them either. What really made them one of the best teams in the country, however, was how supportive they were of each other. They had the freedom to try new things—both during practice and, within reason, during games—without fear of humiliation or punishment. They supported each other no matter what. They pointed out each other’s mistakes and shortcomings in order to make each other better but they always, _always_ did so with kindness and respect.

Jeremy was so used to it that it was easy to forget not every team was like this. Apparently, the Ravens were not. Which, again, not a big surprise. But just how bad was it if Kevin thought kindness stood in the way of greatness?

“If it didn’t, you’d be facing a different team in two weeks,” Jeremy said. “We might not be as good as you are, but we’re not very far from the top. All of your players play professionally after college, but more Trojans than Ravens become truly great and are chosen for Court.”

“That’s true, but you’re still going to lose the final.”

_Harsh, Kevin, harsh._

Also, not necessarily true. The Trojans had a shot. A smaller one now that Bea wasn’t going to be able to play and Jameal might have to join her on the bench, but still a shot.

Not the point here, though.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “I still don’t think the alternative is worth it. Or that it’s healthy.”

“I’m proof that the alternative works, and I’m doing good.”

Jeremy hesitated. He had a question on the tip of his tongue, one he’d been meaning to ask for a while, but he wasn’t sure he should. He closed his eyes. Fuck it. Kevin was his friend.

“Are you? Good?” he asked softly.

“Of course. I’m great.” There was confusion in Kevin’s voice. “I’m the second-best striker in college Exy and I’m only a freshman. I’ve earned a spot on the US Court. I’m going to play for the Wildcats this summer and I—”

“You are. You _are_ great,” Jeremy interrupted him. “But are you _happy_?”

“Yes, of course I’m happy with my results. I know I could be better but—”

Jeremy’s stomach dropped. He was beginning to feel like he and Kevin spoke a different language. How messed up was the winning culture at Edgar Allan if Kevin equated happiness with good results?

“No, I meant: Are you _happy_?” he asked again. His voice was gentle, kind. “Do you feel good when you wake up in the morning? Are you… are you happy with your life, Kevin?”

“What— What kind of question is that?” Kevin’s tone was equal parts confused and annoyed.

“The only one that matters.”

“That’s—That’s not what we were talking about. I’ll be happy when we win championship.”

Jeremy sighed and decided to let it go. “I’ll be happy to see you in two weeks,” he said.

“Yeah. Me too.” Kevin seemed to relax again. “How are your teammates?”

“That’s confidential information,” Jeremy joked. “Bea’s wrist is broken. She’s going to be in a cast for a month. Jameal’s got a concussion and two cracked ribs. He might be able to play in two weeks but we’ll see. He really wants to. It’s his last season with us. Bea’s too.”

“That sucks.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah.”

“The Lions are fucking savage this year.”

“I swear I almost punched their defensive dealer,” Jeremy admitted. He was still angry about it. He was glad Jaimie stopped him from confronting the Lions’ dealer, but he could still feel the urge to wipe the smile off his face. “You have no idea the names he called me. Racist, homophobic asshole. And then he goes after Jaimie, too? Fuck him.”

Kevin chuckled. “I knew you had more fight in you than you showed in post-game interviews.”

“Not as much as you Ravens. Your game with the Lions last week was a bloodbath.”

“They insulted every single one of us. Riko included.”

“As Rousseau said, _Insults are the arguments employed by those who are in the wrong._ Or, you know, about to lose in this case.” Jeremy looked at the time. “I should go. My teammates are waiting for me at the party.”

“Go celebrate. You deserve it. You played a good game, even though you could have—”

“Kevin?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t wanna hear it. On Monday, coach R. will tell me how I could have played better and if you want you can join him. You know I would love to learn from you. But right now I want to celebrate and feel good.”

“Fair enough,” Kevin said. “Have fun at the party.”

“Talk soon. And Kevin?”

“Yes?”

Jeremy looked for the right words. “Try to enjoy it. This. All this. You’re on top of the world. You deserve to feel like it. You’re a fool if you think you should be doing more. I know how dedicated you are, I know how hard you work. You deserve to feel good about what you’re accomplishing.”

There were a couple of seconds of silence on the other end of the line and Jeremy wondered what was going on in Kevin’s head.

“You know,” Kevin said eventually. “Maybe I’ll start calling you Captain Sunshine.”

Jeremy smiled. “I like that. I bet you could use some sunshine in your life with all that black you’ve got at Edgar Allan.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Will you try?”

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” Jeremy smiled again. “Goodnight, Kev.”

“Goodnight.”

Jeremy hung up and looked at the screen of his phone. He had a text from Rhemann reminding him that they needed to leave for the airport at 4 AM for their early flight back to LAX. He texted back a quick reply, then joined his teammates at the party.

* * *

The following week was intense. Rhemann had to rethink his striker line for the final and Jeremy spent quite some time in his office bouncing around ideas and possible strategies. Jameal was usually there with them and kept insisting that he would be well enough to play. The team medic, however, didn’t sound so sure.

Jeremy spent every moment he wasn’t in class at the stadium. He scheduled extra practices with the freshman strikers whenever possible, and spent a few hours running precision drills on his own. He also worked on his stamina: the idea was for him to play the entire first half and then the last twenty minutes of the second half. It was what Kevin and Riko usually did and, if their upcoming game hadn’t been against the Ravens, Jeremy would have asked Kevin for advice. But, as things stood, it felt like crossing a line.

Even injured, Jameal was still captain but Jeremy had been promoted to co-captain and was feeling the weight of the role.

He was dead tired by the end of each day, but in the morning he woke up feeling strong and motivated. Now that March was well behind him, his anxiety levels were much lower and his energy high. He felt _good_.

On Thursday, he came back to the dorms after his classes to change and pick up Chayton and Jaimie for lunch.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re here,” Chayton said as soon as Jeremy opened the door.

“What’s going on?”

Chayton didn’t explain. “He’s all yours. Good luck,” he said before heading out.

_The hell?_

The living room and kitchen were empty, but there was a post-it note on the fridge in Jameal’s messy handwriting: “Doctor’s appointment. See you @ practice.”

That left Jaimie. Jeremy found his bedroom door closed, so he texted him.

**Chat with “****Jaimie****”** ♥  
  
**Jeremy:** *knock knock*  
  
**Jaimie:** Come in  
  


“Shit,” Jeremy said as soon as he saw Jaimie. He was sitting on his bed surrounded by what looked like three boxes of used tissues, eyes red and swollen.

“What happened?” he asked as he walked to him. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and gave Jaimie’s knee a comforting squeeze.

“He broke up with me,” Jaimie replied.

“What?!”

“Apparently, dating me is too time-consuming.”

Jeremy could not believe it. Jaimie and Taylor were such a sweet couple. Taylor was head-over-heels in love with Jaimie and it showed. He was learning ASL for Jaimie, for heaven’s sake. They were both athletes and they were both very busy, but they’d been making it work.

“Are you serious?” he asked. Stupid question: as unbelievable as it seemed, it was pretty clear that it was real. Jaimie looked miserable. He wouldn’t have spent the past hour crying his eyes out because of a simple fight.

Jaimie nodded. “He said he’s been thinking a lot about it and he doesn’t want to break up but he doesn’t see another solution. He has to put his career first. He hasn’t spent enough time in the lab this semester and he’s decided it’s my fault. Or our relationship’s fault. Whatever.”

“He’s fucking crazy.” Jeremy scooted closer and hugged his best friend.

Crazy was an understatement. A week ago, Jaimie had been talking about getting married in a few years. If there was one relationship in his friend group Jeremy would have bet on, it would have been theirs. He knew for sure that Jaimie had no idea Taylor was even considering ending it because he would have told him. Taylor’s decision must have hit him like a truck.

Jaimie slowly pulled away from the hug. “I’m gonna start crying again if you hug me like that,” he signed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jeremy asked.

Jaimie shrugged. “He should have at least talked to me if he felt this way, right? I thought things were fine. And today he just—Drops the bomb on me. He gave me the whole ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech too. Of course it’s you, asshole.” Jaimie’s usually elegant signing looked more like he was trying to beat the hell out of the air in front of him right now. “I was the one waking up at 6 AM every Saturday to spend time with him. He was the one thinking about breaking up with me. And the thing is—If he just stopped trying to graduate in four years instead of five, he’d have enough free time to spend with me. But I guess I’m less important than graduating a year earlier and proving to everyone that he’s smart or whatever.”

As Jaimie got it all out, Jeremy started realizing something: it was usually Jaimie who changed his plans and adapted his schedule to Taylor’s; it was Jaimie who went to every single basketball game while Taylor had only been to a couple of their Exy games; it was Jaimie who bent over backward to make things work. Taylor had gotten a lot of praise for fitting ASL classes into his already-busy schedule, but now that Jeremy thought about it—Why _wouldn’t_ he have done so? It wasn’t a big gesture, it was the bare minimum.

“He’s busy? We’re both busy. And yeah, it takes work to make sure we get to spend some time together but I thought it was worth it. He said it was too hard. I didn’t think he was the type of guy who gives up when things get hard,” Jaimie finished.

“It’s his loss. Hey, I mean it. It’s his loss. You’re amazing and he won the fucking lottery when you asked him out on a date. He’s doing you a favor by breaking up with you: you don’t want to be with someone who leaves as soon as things get tough. Trust me: I know something about that.” Jeremy rubbed Jaimie’s shoulders and arms. “He’s gonna regret it. And you’re going to find someone better, someone who deserves to be with you. Okay?”

Jaimie nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“I want him,” he signed a few seconds later, eyes wet. “I don’t want someone else, I don’t want someone better. I want him. I’m so fucking angry you have no idea, but I still love him.” Jaimie wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Can we watch videos of Riko until it’s time to go to practice? I need to be reminded that there are good guys in the world.”

“Of course. I’ll get my laptop.”

Before going to his room to get his computer, Jeremy hugged his best friend again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Can we watch videos of Riko until it’s time to go to practice? I need to be reminded that there are good guys in the world._  
I know. Believe me, **I know.**


	14. Chapter 13: Then You Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy asks Kevin to meet after the game; Kevin takes a big risk.

_On your knees, you look up  
Decide you've had enough  
You get mad, you get strong  
Wipe your hands, shake it off  
Then you stand, then you stand  
_—“Stand” by Rascal Flatts

## Chapter 13: Then You Stand

Kevin had had trouble sleeping ever since he could remember. Ever since coming to Evermore. The nightmares were mercifully rare but he often found himself unable to fall asleep. It had gotten worse over the past nine months, between the pressure of playing with the Ravens and the stress of being a college student.

Tonight, he’d gone to sleep easily but had woken up three hours later with a sense of unease weighing on his chest. Unable to go back to sleep, he was lying in bed thinking about next week’s game.

He looked at the time on his phone. It was night inside the Nest, but it was actually the middle of the day in the rest of the country. He thought about reading a book, but then texted Jeremy instead. They’d both been busy and hadn’t talked much since their phone conversation after the USC-Penn State game.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Hi  
  
**Jeremy:** hey :)  
  
my teammates have forbidden me from texting you  
  
they said i shouldn’t fraternize with the enemy :)  
  
**Kevin:** So this is you not texting me?  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m a rebel ahah  
  


Kevin rolled his eyes, the hint of a smile on his lips. His mood was already improving.

**Kevin:** Yes, “rebel” is exactly the first word that comes to mind when I think about you, Captain Sunshine.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m choosing to ignore the sarcasm  
  
i can’t wait to see you on friday  
  
btw, our flight back isn’t until saturday afternoon, wanna hang out in the morning?  
  
whoever loses championship pays for brunch  
  
**Kevin:** So you’re offering to buy me brunch? That’s nice of you. :))  
  


Kevin had no doubt they were going to win on Friday. There was no other option. Edgar Allan always won, and they weren’t going to start losing now that he and Riko were on the line. No way. The Trojans would put up a good fight, though, and Kevin was looking forward to it.

**Jeremy:** don’t be so sure you’re gonna win  
  
but is that a yes?  
  


Brunch with Jeremy sounded great but he didn’t see a way of getting out of the Nest without Riko noticing. And Riko could not know about Jeremy. He wouldn’t accept it and he would certainly not forgive it.

**Kevin:** I don’t know. We have practice in the morning.  
  
**Jeremy:** on a saturday?  
  
the day after championship ends??  
  


“We never take time off, that’s why we’re the best,” Kevin replied honestly. They did have two practices scheduled for that Saturday, one in the early afternoon and one in the evening—West Virginia time. They would have the morning off so they could sleep in after the party so technically he could have told Jeremy yes, but Kevin’s absence wouldn’t go unnoticed. Without a good reason, he couldn’t leave the Nest. And he definitely couldn’t go anywhere alone.

**Jeremy:** i get it. still sucks though :(  
  
i’ll try to get you alone after the game then. i still owe you a hug in person  
  
**Kevin:** I’m sorry.  
  
**Jeremy:** it’s cool  
  


He closed his eyes. Not so long ago, Exy Magazine had put him and Riko on the cover with “Riko & Kevin Have It All” written in large block letters under the picture. When it came to Exy, it was true: Kevin did have it all. But right now what he wanted was a couple of hours to spend with a friend and he couldn’t have them.

Ever since meeting Jeremy, the sacrifices he needed to make felt like a higher price to pay than before for being the best. (_Second_ best.) Maybe he should follow Jean’s advice and cut ties with Jeremy. But _that_—now that would be too high a price to pay.

For the first time, he felt like he had a choice. Not over his life or what he would do with it. Not over his daily routine. Not over whether or not Riko would punish him for something he did or did not do. A tiny choice: being friends with Jeremy. That part of his life was his. Riko and the Master didn’t know about it; they couldn’t control it. It was a small part of his life that he didn’t share with anyone. It was his alone. He hadn’t had anything like that ever since his mother’s death.

He’d never felt so divided. His whole life, all he’d ever wanted was Exy. Nothing else.

He still wanted it—that dream hadn’t changed—but he also wanted Jeremy. Or maybe he wanted what Jeremy had. It was hard to tell. His chest burned with an ache that he couldn’t quite name.

He wanted it so badly.

Whatever _it_ was.

* * *

He approached Riko after practice, after noticing that he was in a good mood. They’d played particularly well together during the scrimmage, even better than usual, and the Master had been pleased. Kevin knew this was his best chance.

“The Trojans don’t stand a chance against us,” he said.

Riko smiled. “Crushing them will be fun.”

Winning, playing a good game, outsmarting and outperforming their opponents: that was going to be fun. Crushing another team? Kevin didn’t care for that.

“Yes, it will,” he said anyway.

He looked around the locker room. It was just the two of them and a goalie. Kevin stared him down for a few seconds: the guy scrambled to pack his things and hurried out of the room.

“I need your help,” he told Riko.

Riko liked to feel powerful. Liked to show he was more competent than Kevin. Liked to know that Kevin _needed_ him, that he was _helpless_ without him. The best way of getting him to do anything was appealing to his God complex. Kevin had figured it out when he was still very young. It was a survival skill.

“With what?” Riko asked.

“I have an assignment due next Monday,” Kevin lied. “I need to go to the Old Slave Mart Museum in Charleston to do it. It’s about—”

Kevin was ready to give him all the information. He’d made sure to be prepared just in case. But, as expected, Riko didn’t want to be bored with the details of his History paper and waved his hand in dismissal.

Kevin went on. “I was thinking of going tomorrow, but I’d have to skip our one-on-one practice,” he said. “The Master can’t know about it. You know how he feels about me majoring in History.”

“I feel the same way.”

Riko studied him; Kevin lowered his eyes.

_Please, please, please._

“Go on Saturday morning,” Riko said eventually. “So you don’t have to skip practice. I’ll cover for you.”

Kevin’s bet had paid off: Riko had jumped at the opportunity to _save him_, to come up with a _better plan_, to prove his _superiority_ once again.

“Thank you,” Kevin said.

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Riko replied. “Jean will go with you. I don’t want you to be alone and I assume he’s got the same assignment?”

That was an unexpected bonus. Kevin nodded, careful not to seem too eager. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“What would you do without me?”

Riko looked at him for a few seconds then made for the door. Kevin followed him.

* * *

Jean kissed him when Kevin told him about their upcoming hours of freedom. Kevin thought wine had to taste like that, like Jean’s kisses: exhilarating and dizzying.

“What are we going to do?” Jean asked.

“I’m meeting Jeremy.”

“You’re not serious.”

Jean stared at him in disbelief. Kevin held his gaze.

“Of course I’m serious. Seeing Jeremy was the whole point.”

He hadn’t told Jeremy yet, but he was confident that his friend hadn’t made other plans. Everything was falling into place. It just _had_ to happen.

“He’s not like us,” Jean said. “He’ll never understand you, not completely. You can never tell him about _this_.”

Jean had a point but it was one that Kevin had already dismissed. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t share most of his life as a Raven with Jeremy. It was the other part of Kevin that belonged to him: the tiny clippings of his life that Evermore hadn’t taken over. His love for history, his passion for Exy as a sport and not just as a means to assert superiority and make money, the memories of his mom. The parts of himself he had to hide from Riko, the parts Jean couldn’t understand. It wasn’t much but it was a part of himself that Kevin refused to let Riko and the Master take away from him. Jeremy made it easier to keep those parts of him alive. Jeremy liked him not in spite but because of them. Kevin needed that. He felt like he would lose himself if he let the Ravens take away Jeremy, too.

There was no point in trying to explain it to Jean.

Jean didn’t have that. Jean couldn’t understand. Jean couldn’t afford to risk what Kevin was risking by having Jeremy in his life.

“I know,” Kevin said. “But I want to meet with him anyway.” He kissed Jean. “Please?”

Jean sighed. “Fine.”

* * *

Kevin waited until Riko was asleep before texting Jeremy. He had to be extra careful now. Riko was feeling good about himself, but it didn’t mean Kevin could lower his guard.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** I’ve been trying to figure out a way to meet on Saturday if you’re still up for it. Would it be okay if we met around 9? I found a quiet place for brunch where no paparazzi will bother us and I should be able to sneak out with Jean’s help.  
  
**Jeremy:** sneak out? they got you on lockdown at edgar allan? :))  
  
but yeah, of course i’m still up for it and 9 works for me  
  


_Shit._

That had slipped out. He needed to be more careful.

**Kevin:** No, but there are rules for athletes. It’s part of why we win every year.  
  
Great, then.  
  
**Jeremy:** :))  
  
gotta go, laila’s coming  
  
xo  
  


He and Jean would leave the Nest a little before 9 AM and come back around 1 PM, just in time for practice. While he had brunch with Jeremy, Jean was going to drive to Charleston and buy tickets to the museum. They could leave them lying around Kevin’s desk later. A subtle but tangible proof that they’d really been to the museum so Riko wouldn’t have any reason to suspect otherwise.

Jean was happy to have a few hours for himself, just driving down the road and listening to music. Kevin couldn’t wait to see Jeremy. Depending on how the morning went and what time it would be, maybe they could park somewhere private before going back to Evermore and make out in the car.

This week was going to be the best of Kevin’s life so far. He could feel it.


	15. Chapter 14: If You Could Feel My Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Jeremy meet after the final.

_I have lived in darkness  
For all my life I've been pursued  
You'd be afraid if you could feel my pain  
And if you could see the things I am able to see  
_—“The Dark Side” by Muse

## Chapter 14: If You Could Feel My Pain

**Chat with “****Kevin”**  
  
**Jeremy:** may the best team win :)  
  
**Kevin:** We will  
  
**Jeremy:** KEVIN!!  
  
that was mean  
  
you’re lucky you’re pretty and talented, i can’t stay mad at you :))  
  


* * *

The Ravens won the game 9-7.

There was a moment, ten minutes before the end of the game, when Jeremy thought they had it. Victory was so, _so_ close. They were up by one point and feeling invincible. Sometimes that was all it took: believing you could win.

Then Kevin scored twice in six minutes and Riko sealed their victory with a beautiful shot from half-court. There were still two minutes left on the clock and the Trojans fought tooth and nail to come back, but Edgar Allan’s defense line shot down every single one of their actions.

“You played a good game,” Kevin told him when they shook hands.

Jeremy smiled. “You played a better one. Congratulations.”

* * *

They took Jean’s car but Kevin insisted on being the one driving to the hotel where the Trojans were staying. Jean’s driving had a tendency to be reckless in a You’d-better-get-out-of-the-way-because-I-sure-as-hell-won’t kind of way, and it made Kevin nervous. Jean could run yellow lights and break speed limits later on his way to Charleston.

“I’m parked outside,” he texted Jeremy once they got there.

Jeremy replied almost right away:

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** running late  
  
come up to my room?  
  
#416  
  
**Kevin:** Sure.  
  


Kevin unbuckled his seat belt and looked at Jean. “He’s still getting dressed. I’m going up to his room.”

Jean smirked. “If you aren’t back in ten minutes, I’m going to assume you’re having sex with him and leave.”

“We’re not gonna have sex.”

“Sure you’re not.” Jean laughed quietly, then reached inside the dashboard compartment and handed Kevin a couple of condoms. “Do you need more?”

Kevin threw them back at his chest. “You’re not funny, you know?” he said with an amused smile. Then, serious, he said, “Will you be okay on your own?”

The last time Jean had spent any time alone outside the Nest had to be before he was given to the Master. Ravens went everywhere in pairs. Jean went to class with Kevin, and everywhere else with his roommate, a sophomore backliner from Arizona.

“Away from Riko? I will be more than okay,” Jean reassured him. “Don’t worry about me, and have fun with the Sunshine Child.”

Kevin nodded, then got out of the car and walked into the hotel.

A couple of minutes later, he was standing in front of room 416. He knocked. Jeremy opened the door a few seconds later wearing only boxers, a white t-shirt, and clear-framed glasses. If he had to be completely honest, Kevin wouldn’t have minded if Jean had been right about this being a booty call.

“Hey,” Jeremy said with a bright smile before giving him a quick hug.

“Hi, Jeremy,” Kevin managed to say.

He stepped inside the room and looked around. There were two beds but only one looked slept in. Kevin guessed it was Jeremy’s.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” Jeremy said. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re alone. My roommate’s passed out on the floor next door. Around 3 AM, when I decided to call it a night, I tried to wake him up. He told me to fuck off so I brought him a blanket and left him there. I don’t think anyone will be up before midday.”

“How are you so—awake?”

“I’m used to getting up early, and I didn’t drink too much last night so I wouldn’t be hangover in the morning. How did you guys celebrate?” Jeremy pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans and white sneakers, then went through his travel bag and took out several t-shirts.

“We had a party,” Kevin said. One that ended with Thea lying naked on top of him, but he wasn’t going to share that, not even with Jeremy.

“Yeah, same. We sang karaoke until coach R. yelled at us to stop before someone complained about the noise.”

Jeremy changed into a different white t-shirt, pulled on a bright yellow hoodie, then fixed his hair into a low bun. Kevin caught himself staring but Jeremy didn’t seem to notice.

“Shall we?”

“What?”

Jeremy smiled softly. “I’m ready. Shall we go?”

Kevin covered his slip with a yawn. “Yeah. I think I need coffee.”

“Me, too. And an unhealthy amount of bacon and eggs.” Instead of heading for the door, Jeremy stepped closer to Kevin and put his hand on his arm. “Hey, come here. I still haven’t hugged you properly.”

“You hugged me five minutes ago.”

Jeremy scoffed. “I mean a _real_ hug,” he said, without letting go of his arm, his touch light but sure. “Do you want one or not? You can say no. I know some people don’t like to be hugged.”

_A real hug_. Whatever that meant.

“Sure.” Kevin shrugged.

Jeremy pulled him into his arms, unaware of the fresh bruise on Kevin’s side. Kevin couldn’t help but wince. _Shit_. He was letting his guard down around Jeremy: he wouldn’t have let it happen around Riko or the Master. Complaining about an injury only ever got him more pain.

“Are you hurt?” Jeremy asked, worry showing in his voice. He let Kevin go but not completely.

“Just a bruise” Kevin managed a fake smile. “Courtesy of your backliners.”

“You scored five times last night. I think you kinda deserved it.” Jeremy smiled but then looked at him in the eye. “It’s nothing serious, right?”

“Just a bruise,” Kevin repeated.

“Good, then I can say you deserved it.” Jeremy laughed.

He _had _deserved it. For outscoring Riko during the final. No matter that he’d apologized for it. No matter that they could have lost the game if he hadn’t. No matter that he’d given the ball to Riko every time he could.

Riko had hit him with the butt of his racquet. The blow not meant to cause any internal damage, but still hard enough to give Kevin a visible reminder of what happened when he forgot his place. Next time he wouldn’t get away with only a bruise. He knew that.

Jeremy hugged him again, this time mindful of the bruise on his side. Kevin hugged him back slowly, stiffly. It took him a little while to relax into the hug. It made him feel vulnerable but also—safe? It wasn’t the right word, but he didn’t have any other way to describe it.

It felt good. It felt scary. He wanted to stay like that for hours and, at the same time, he wanted to get as far away from Jeremy as he could.

He couldn’t have this.

He wasn’t supposed to have this.

He wasn’t supposed to _want_ this.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked, voice low.

“Yeah, uh—You give great hugs.”

“I know.” Kevin could hear the smile in his voice.

Jeremy held him for a few seconds longer, then slowly pulled away. He looked at Kevin and Kevin felt like he was looking into his mind. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeremy asked. Eyebrows knitted together, a serious expression on his face.

Kevin smiled, bright and fake. “Yeah, I’m great.”

He wasn’t sure if Jeremy believed him but thankfully he let it go.

“Brunch, then?”

Kevin nodded. “Yes. Brunch. Let’s go.”

Jeremy grabbed his key card, wallet and phone, and they got out of the room.

“Where are you taking me?” Jeremy asked.

“Oh, it’s not too far away.”

“Are you up for a walk then? I could use some fresh air.”

A walk would have been nice, but it was too big of a risk. Being here, parked outside the Trojans’ hotel, when he was supposed to be on his way to Charleston was already too dangerous. Riko could not find out about Jeremy, and the Master could not find out that Kevin had spent the morning outside. “It’s best if we drive. Paparazzi, you know,” he said.

“Oh, right.” Jeremy laughed. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not used to hanging out with celebrities.”

“I just don’t want to deal with the media speculating on why we’re hanging out, especially the day after the final,” Kevin said truthfully. The other reason, the more important reason—Riko and the Master and what they would do to him—he kept to himself.

“I get it. It’s cool.”

They stood in the hall waiting for the elevator, Jeremy bright as the sun in his yellow hoodie and Kevin in black jeans and a black shirt.

“Jeremy.”

The voice called Jeremy’s name, but Kevin turned around too, heart racing.

_Coach Rhemann_. Thank God.

“Morning, Coach,” Jeremy said.

“And Kevin Day?”

Kevin flashed Rhemann a smile. “Good morning, sir.”

“You two are up early.”

“So are you, Coach.” Jeremy smiled easily.

“Congratulations on winning the championship, Kevin,” Rhemann said.

“You make it harder every time.”

Rhemann nodded a thank you. “Moriyama was lucky to have you and Riko this year. We just might have won otherwise.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have this guy. A great choice for captain,” Kevin said.

“He told me I should be thanking you for convincing him to accept the position.”

Kevin shrugged it off. “I simply told him you made the right choice.”

“You did a lot more than that,” Jeremy said. “I was panicking.”

“I remember.” Rhemann smiled fondly at his new captain, then looked at Kevin. “You know, Kevin, your mother would be proud of you. For winning the championship, for making Court, for playing a great game last night, sure. But also for being here this morning. She wanted Exy to bring people together. She would’ve been happy to see two players being friends off the court even if they’re rivals on it. I wish she was here to see it.”

“Me too,” Kevin said quietly, keeping his face from showing too much emotion. But, _shit_, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He felt Jeremy’s hand on his back. It was probably meant to be comforting, but it made it even harder for Kevin to keep a straight face.

“I would’ve loved to meet her,” Jeremy said.

Pulling himself together, Kevin managed a weak smile. “She was a Trojan fan, you know?”

“She had good taste.” Jeremy smiled. “Like you.”

“I have a letter where she told me what she envisioned for the future of Exy,” Rhemann told Kevin. “I’ll have to show it to you next time you come to California. I think you’ll like it.”

“I would love to read it. Thank you.”

“I’ll let you guys go. Jeremy?”

Jeremy apparently knew already what his coach was going to say because he replied, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Don’t worry, Coach.”

“If you’re late, I’m leaving your ass here, Knox.”

“If you do, we’ll sign him for next year,” Kevin threatened.

Rhemann laughed and said goodbye; a couple of seconds later the elevator doors opened.

“I told you I’m not leaving the Trojans,” Jeremy said once they were inside. “I could kidnap you if you want to join us, though.”

“Keep dreaming.”

Jeremy kept his hand on Kevin’s back as he guided him out of the elevator and through the front door of the hotel. “I would go crazy at Evermore,” he admitted. “Did they have to paint it all black? It’s claustrophobic. I almost had an anxiety attack the first time I was there.”

Kevin shrugged. “You get used to it.”

“You could still use some more sunshine in your life, Kev.”

_Kev_.

Kevin hated the nickname, but when Jeremy said it, it wasn’t so bad. Quite the opposite.

“I’ve got you, don’t I?” he said.

Kevin smiled. A real smile this time. The one Jeremy gave him was so bright Kevin thought he might need sunglasses.

“Yeah, you do,” Jeremy said.

They walked to the car; Jean was waiting inside but got out when he saw them.

“Hi,” Jeremy said.

Jean tilted his chin up in response.

“You two already know each other,” Kevin said.

“Yes. I have the bruises to prove it,” Jeremy joked.

This got a laugh out of Jean. “So do I.”

Jeremy offered him his hand. Was Kevin imagining it, or was Jeremy checking Jean out? He wondered if Jean noticed.

“We haven’t been officially introduced, though. Jeremy Knox.”

“Jean Moreau.” Jean shook his hand. _He_ most definitely _did_ check Jeremy out. Kevin couldn’t wait to tease him for that.

“Jean is just giving us a ride.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Jeremy said.

Knowing Jeremy, Kevin should have expected that. He looked at Jean and shrugged. The idea scared him a little but it was also interesting. He wanted Jean to get to know Jeremy. He wanted Jean to also have what Jeremy gave him, and he wanted Jeremy to maybe—in time—see the side of Jean that only Kevin got to see. His softer side, his best side. The one that kept Kevin together, that gave him a reason to hold on when things got too bad.

“I have a few things to do,” Jean said instead.

“Maybe next time.”

“Yes, maybe next time,” Jean agreed.

He tossed the car keys at Kevin and got into the passenger seat. Jeremy climbed in the back as Kevin took a seat behind the wheel and started the car. He listened to Jeremy and Jean talk about last night’s game and tease each other about it, but didn’t say anything, preferring to drive in silence.

He’d picked a place not too far from Jeremy’s hotel. A brasserie he knew he could count on for discretion with a generous tip to the right people.

He put the car in park and got out.

“I’ll pick you up around half-past eleven,” Jean said. “I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

“See you later,” Jeremy said as he got out of the car.

“Later. Drive safe.”

Kevin followed Jeremy inside and got the attention of one of the waiters. “Table for two. I called yesterday: Kevin Day.”

The waiter led them to a table in a corner, away from the large windows. Kevin had requested that specifically.

“I’m so hungry,” Jeremy said as soon as they were seated. “I want to order every single thing on the menu. What do you recommend? Are the waffles good?”

“I haven’t tried them.”

“You’re about to, we’re sharing a plate. Ice cream or chocolate sauce?”

Kevin thought both sounded good. He might as well make his cheat day count. “Chocolate?”

“Perfect.” Jeremy kept the menu open in front of him and leaned in. “So, yesterday, on the plane, I finally started that book on the French Revolution you told me about. It’s so interesting, especially because I’m taking Political Philosophy this semester and we talked a lot about Baron de Montesquieu, Voltaire, and Diderot.”

Jeremy pronounced the first name slightly wrong. Kevin was reminded of the hours spent in semi-darkness, with Jean correcting his French pronunciation until he’d deemed it good enough. He didn’t correct Jeremy. “I knew you’d like it,” he said instead with a smile.

They talked about the book and the relationship between politics and philosophy in the XXVIII century until the waiter came back to take their order. Jeremy ordered pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a brownie, as well as a plate of waffles to share; Kevin asked for an omelet with cheese and spinach, French toast, and a fruit salad with extra pineapple.

“I still can’t believe you scored five times last night. Laila was so mad, you have no idea,” Jeremy said after the waiter left, bringing the conversation back to Exy.

“I’m number two in the country, remember?”

“Riko only scored four times. I’d say you’re number one right now.”

Kevin froze at those words.

Nobody was supposed to say that.

Nobody was even supposed to _think_ that.

_Shit._

He forced himself to smile. “He’s still number one. It was just one game. And you were great, too. This morning Thea was still upset that you got past her.”

Jeremy smiled proudly. “Twice. And twice more past Jean. And I’m not sorry. Lucky for us, we have a better goalkeeper than you do.”

He was right: Dermott was a nightmare in goal. Playing against her had been the most challenging—and fun—thing Kevin had done on the court all year.

He tried to relax now that the conversation was on safe territory once again. “That could’ve changed next year if we’d been able to recruit Minyard. I still can’t believe Wymack signed him. I asked him how he did it but he wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me.”

“Is he really as good as those videos I saw?”

“He’s better. If he tried, if he really tried, even I would have a hard time scoring against him.”

“Maybe we’ll face him next spring,” Jeremy mused.

Kevin doubted it. The Foxes would have a hard time not placing last if they kept playing like they did last winter. Minyard could be deadly if motivated enough to put some effort into playing, but he couldn’t make up for everyone’s mistakes. The Foxes’ captain, Wilds, was good enough, but the team had no noteworthy backliners and their striker line was a joke.

“That’s if Wymack can get his team to work together and make it to Spring championship,” he said.

“What does he say?” Jeremy asked. “Did you talk to him? You guys are friends, right?”

“He was friends with my mom and he’s kept in contact with me over the years. Yeah, we’re… friends or something. He’s worried the ERC will take away their Class I status if they don’t start winning soon.”

Jeremy shook his head in disapproval. “I don’t get it, this obsession with fast results. What he’s doing is great and he deserves a few more years to get it to work.”

“So you’re not one of those who thinks it’s a publicity stunt?”

“They say the same about us winning the Day Spirit Award every year. But when I’m on the court and I really, _really_ want to punch someone, it’s not an award I’m thinking about.” Jeremy looked at him. “Journalists are assholes. I don’t know how you do it: being in the public eye all the time.”

“I grew up like that. I’m used to it,” Kevin replied with a shrug. “You’re gonna have to get used to it too: next year, as captain, the spotlight will be on you.”

“Got any advice?”

Kevin thought about it for a few moments before replying. “Don’t let them run the show. Stay in control.” Jeremy nodded and he went on. “They’ll try to get a reaction out of you over and over again. They’re heartless. They want you to get emotional for their cameras but they don’t care about how you’re feeling or how they make you feel. Remember when coach Anderson died a couple of years ago, and those rumors came out that he might have been my father? Half an hour later, I had a camera and a mic in my face. They wanted my reaction and they didn’t care that I was fifteen or that, as far as they knew, I could have just lost a father I never got the chance to know.”

“I remember that. It was fucked-up.”

“Yeah.” Kevin looked down. “Thank you. For not asking if the rumors were true, I mean. And for the record, they weren’t. The—” He caught himself before calling him the Master. “Coach assured me he couldn’t have been my father. And no, I don’t know who he is.”

Jeremy moved his chair closer and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting rub. “I wasn’t going to ask. But it must be tough, not knowing.”

It was. Sometimes he thought that maybe, if he found out who his father was, maybe—maybe things could be different. Somehow. But would he even want them to be different? He would never give up Exy, and Exy meant Evermore and the Master and Riko.

“Maybe it’s better this way,” he said instead. “Maybe he’s an asshole.”

“Sometimes fathers are. Mine was.”

“Was he—?” He didn’t quite know what he meant. Was he like the Master, maybe?

He wondered suddenly if he even had the right to ask. Probably not.

But Jeremy didn’t seem to mind. “Abusive, violent? No. He—Uh, Henry, I call him Henry—He left when I was six and we didn’t hear from him for the good part of a decade. When he came back into my life, it was… messy.” Jeremy pressed his lips together. “That’s an understatement,” he said quietly, almost to himself. He shrugged as if to get rid of any bad memories. “I can’t complain though. I’ve got a great dad.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say to that. Was he supposed to comfort Jeremy? Should he say something? But what? Should he put a hand on his shoulder like Jeremy had done to comfort him? He didn’t have any experience. Except with Jean, but it was different with Jean.

Luckily, the waiter got there with their food and the moment passed. Maybe he shouldn’t have felt relieved, but he did.

“So, what are your plans for the summer?” he asked while they started eating.

He dug into his omelet while Jeremy drowned his pancakes in maple syrup.

“I’m going home for a few weeks,” Jeremy said. “I miss my family and I’ve got a sister I’ve barely met. My parents adopted her three months ago and I’ve only seen her once. Between my little sisters and my nephews, I’ll do a lot of babysitting.” He smiled. He was clearly looking forward to it. “And then Jaimie and I—Jaimie, that’s our offensive dealer, he’s one of my best friends—we’re going to drive down the coast. A road trip. He was supposed to go with his boyfriend but they broke up so we’re going instead.”

“Wow, cool. I’m almost jealous.”

“I’m the one who’s jealous. You’re going to be amazing. Are you nervous? I would be.”

“No.” Kevin paused. After a brief hesitation, he decided to be honest. He knew Jeremy wouldn’t judge him for that. “A little. It’s Court.”

“At least you’ll have Riko there with you.”

“And Thea. They asked her last night.”

“I thought she turned them down a couple of years ago.”

Kevin nodded. He remembered that all too well. She’d been the first player to ever say no to Court. Riko had said she was an idiot, but Kevin had understood her reasons. As much as he wanted to play with the national team this summer, he also felt like he could have benefited more in the long-run from a summer of practices with the Ravens.

He could handle it—of course he could handle it. But it felt like too much, too soon.

“They asked her again last night and she said yes,” he told Jeremy.

“That’s awesome. She deserves it.”

Kevin nodded. “I might be in L.A. at some point during the summer, and I’m definitely going to be in Seattle for a game with the Wildcats next month. Maybe we can meet up if you’re there?”

He had no idea how he would manage that, but he would figure it out. He couldn’t accept the possibility of not seeing Jeremy again until the Spirit Award ceremony next January.

“Of course. I’d love that.” Jeremy smiled. “Text me the dates and we’ll set it up. I’ll take you on a tour of the city if you’ve got time. And I’ve gotta take you to the beach when you’re in Cali.”

“I don’t know if I’ll have time for that. But I’ll find time for a coffee, maybe even lunch.”

“Awesome.” Jeremy had a bite of waffles. “Okay, these are so damn good.”

He pushed the plate toward Kevin, and Kevin ate a piece.

“Mhm, yeah. Good choice. You bring sunshine _and sugar_ into my life apparently,” he joked.

“You can count on me for that.” Suddenly, Jeremy got serious. His voice was lower when he spoke again. Kevin appreciated it even if there wasn’t anyone sitting close enough to overhear anyway. “Are we just joking about this, or do you actually feel like there’s too much darkness in your life? Because I don’t want to joke about it if you’re really feeling like that. I’ve been there, I know what it’s like, and you can talk to me. You don’t have to, but you can.”

Kevin felt like it was the opposite: he couldn’t—he shouldn’t—but he _had_ to. Because Jeremy deserved the truth, or at least as much of it as Kevin could realistically share.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Jeremy leaned closer, a hand on Kevin’s forearm, bright brown eyes staring right into Kevin’s, giving him his full attention.

“Riko and I—We’re not as close as we say we are,” Kevin confessed. “But you already figured that out so maybe we’re not that good at pretending.”

“If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. It was just a feeling, really. Did you have a falling out?”

“Would you believe me if I told you we were never that close?” Kevin dared say. “We have Exy. We’re really good at that; we make a great team on the court. I wouldn’t change that for the world. But he was never—he was never a brother to me. And Tetsuji’s always been my coach, not a father figure. So sometimes I feel—lonely.” He paused. Looked down at the half-eaten waffles. “Most of the time. If I’m being honest, it’s most of the time.”

The words slipped out one after the other, as inevitable as an avalanche. As if by revealing that little secret about Riko, Kevin had opened the door for everything else to spill out too.

He’d said too much.

He shouldn’t have.

He should’ve kept his mouth shut.

_Fuck._

He didn’t dare meet Jeremy’s eyes. His heartbeat was a loud drum in his chest. He wondered if Jeremy could hear it.

He felt sick with fear.

“Hey. I’ve got you.” Jeremy’s voice pulled him out of the dark hole he was falling in. Jeremy was rubbing his back and looking at him with worry.

Kevin took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I—I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“I’m glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me. I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Jeremy reassured him. He was running his hand up and down Kevin’s arm. “I’m sorry. You deserved better. You _deserve_ better.”

“Yeah, well.” Kevin swallowed down his feelings and steadied his voice. “I’ve got Exy.”

“And you’ve got me. I know I’m on the other side of the country, but you can call me or text me anytime. Whenever you feel lonely. You’re my friend and I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Kevin said.

“Are you close to anyone on the team?”

“Jean. We’re friends. He—” How was he supposed to sum up who Jean was to him? He couldn’t. “He’s sort of my family and I’m his.”

“That’s good.” Jeremy moved his hand to Kevin’s back and kept it there. There was an ease to his touches that was completely unfamiliar to Kevin. “Whenever you feel lonely, just call me, okay?” Jeremy offered again. “We don’t have to talk about it unless you want to. You can tell me about Exy and your classes, we can talk about books and music and… whatever. We can Facetime and you can watch Hector get jealous that I’m not paying attention to him.” He squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’re not alone, okay? Even when you’re lonely, you’re not alone. Promise to call me?”

That was—

That was a lot more than Kevin had ever gotten. A lot more than he thought he could ever get. Was this normal in Jeremy’s world? He made it sound like it was.

“I promise.” Kevin looked him, then shook his head slowly. “You should have stayed in bed this morning. Don’t meet your heroes or something.”

“No. I’m glad we talked,” Jeremy said right away. His hand was still on Kevin’s shoulder and he was rubbing tiny circles with his thumb. “And you’re not my hero, Kevin, you’re my _friend_. I admire you so much and I’m still your biggest fan, but you’re my friend first.”

“Friends. I like it.” Kevin gave him a small smile.

Jeremy let him go and nodded at the plate in front of them. “Eat some waffles,” he said, before doing just that.

Kevin appreciated the change of topic. He cut a large piece of waffle and brought it to his mouth.


	16. Chapter 15: I Just Needed to Be Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy goes back to California and to his regular life. Also, Hector is an adorable fluffball, which isn't news but it's still worth mentioning.

_A trillion memories  
Lost in space and time for ever more  
I just wanted  
I just needed to be loved  
_—“The Globalist” by Muse

## Chapter 15: I Just Needed to Be Loved

Jeremy spent the entire flight back slumped against Jaimie’s shoulder, listening to music and napping. He was tired and wasn’t feeling like talking.

Meeting Kevin that morning had been great, but Jeremy was more than a little worried about him. He hated that Kevin felt lonely. He couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like if he didn’t have his family to count on. It wasn’t even about the big stuff, although he knew it mattered. It was more about the little, daily reminders that he was loved and supported.

He’d always figured Kevin had that too. That coach Moriyama was like Jeremy’s dad, who loved him and was always there for him. Maybe a little less affectionate—Moriyama didn’t strike him as a man who knew how to be soft—but still loving, still supportive. More than that, Jeremy had believed that Kevin and Riko were brothers and loved each other as such.

_He has Jean_, he told himself. Kevin had called him family and Jeremy doubted that Kevin used that term lightly.

Still, it didn’t seem like enough.

Kevin himself had admitted to feeling lonely and that was one of the worst things Jeremy could imagine. He wished there weren’t over two thousand miles between them. He wished he could be there for his friend. Physically there.

He also wished he could talk about this with Laila or Jaimie, but he’d promised Kevin he would keep it a secret.

“What’s on your mind?” Jaimie asked him. “You’re being weird today.”

“Nothing. I’m just—I don’t know.”

“Is it about Kevin?”

“Yes,” Jeremy admitted. “It sucks that we won’t be able to see each other for a while now. Today was really nice. I wish we lived closer, that’s all.”

Jaimie gave him a quick hug. “Do you want me to switch to engineering? I could try to build a teleportation machine.”

“Yes, please.” Jeremy smiled. “You’re the best, you know?”

He meant it: he already felt a bit better and he hadn’t even told Jaimie anything. He hoped Jean could do the same for Kevin.

* * *

They got back to the dorms late. Jeremy, his roommates, Laila, Sara, and a couple of third years decided to order some take-out and eat on the couch. They were all tired and nobody was feeling like cooking.

While they waited for the food to be delivered, Jeremy texted Kevin a picture of Hector hiding under the couch.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m back  
  
and this little guy is super mad at me for leaving  
  
**Kevin:** Tell him you had a final to play.  
  
**Jeremy:** i did. he doesn’t care  
  
**Kevin:** He’ll have to forgive you eventually.  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah, when he wants cuddles :))  
  
so probably around 3am tonight ahah  
  
**Kevin:** Text me when he does.  
  


* * *

Just like Jeremy had predicted, at 3.06 AM Hector jumped on the bed and crawled under the blankets. Jeremy wasn’t a light sleeper, but Hector knew exactly how to wake him up by now.

He took a picture and sent it to Kevin, then cradled the kitten to his chest and cuddled him. “I missed you too, little one,” he whispered. He looked at his phone when he felt it buzz.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** like i said  
  
**Kevin:** That is not forgiveness, it’s revenge.  
  
**Jeremy:** agreed  
  
up already?  
  
**Kevin:** Got practice in 20.  
  
Go back to sleep, Jeremy.  
  
**Jeremy:** ‘kay  
  


Luckily Hector seemed to be content just being close to Jeremy. He didn’t want food or attention, just warmth. Jeremy found a position that was comfortable for both of them—or, to be more accurately, one that was comfortable for Hector and not too uncomfortable for him—and went back to sleep.

He woke up late the following morning and it wasn’t until he’d had his first cup of coffee that he realized the implications of Kevin’s message.

**Jeremy:** wait you had practice this morning?  
  
you are aware that it’s sunday? and championship’s over?  
  
you may remember winning it  
  
**Kevin:** So what?  
  
**Jeremy:** you guys are crazy  
  
**Kevin:** No, we’re the best.  
  
**Jeremy:** one doesn’t rule out the other  
  


Jameal set two plates of blueberry pancakes on the table. Jeremy took a picture and sent it to Kevin, then pocketed his phone.

**Jeremy:** this is what sundays are for  
  


“I can’t believe it’s over,” Jameal said before digging into his pancakes.

“It’s going to be weird without you.”

“At least I got to play one last game. Bea didn’t.”

Jeremy nodded. “I wish we’d won it.”

“Me too. It would have been nice after five years.”

“You won’t disappear on us, right? Not completely, I mean.”

“Oh, I’ll watch every single one of your games, you can count on that. I’ll even fly in for as many as I can. Don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily.” Jameal smiled. “And you can always call me. To chat, or if you have any questions. I’ve been captain for two years and I’ve learned a thing or two.”

“Thank you. Hey, I mean it.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“Word of advice?” Jameal said at last.

Jeremy looked up at him. “Please.”

“You’re still part of a team. Don’t start thinking that everything falls on your shoulders. You’re their leader, not their babysitter, and you are allowed to ask for help. The most important thing is making sure the team is united, that everyone feels part of it and that there are no internal factions. Everything else will sort itself out.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not. But I know you can do it. One hundred percent.” There wasn’t even the hint of a doubt in Jameal’s voice. Just then, his phone started ringing. “My agent. I have to take this. Sorry.”

While Jameal stepped into his bedroom to talk in private, Jeremy checked his own phone. Kevin had sent a picture of an Exy racquet followed by the words, “I disagree.”

**Jeremy:** oh, c’mon, be honest: you’d rather be eating pancakes with me :))  
  
**Kevin:** And you’d rather be playing Exy with me.  
  
**Jeremy:** touchè!  
  


* * *

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** are you busy? can i call you?  
  
history emergency! got my final in an hour  
  
**Kevin:** Of course!  
  


* * *

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you again  
  
i think it went well  
  
**Kevin:** Glad I could help :))  
  


* * *

Jeremy had his last exam on Friday morning. Laila was waiting for him outside and they went to their favorite café to celebrate. Jeremy ordered a slice of double chocolate cake and a mango and banana smoothie; Laila picked a piece of angel food cake with strawberries and an Oreo milkshake. They took a few pictures to post on Instagram: the cakes and drinks on the table, Laila drinking her smoothie, Jeremy licking chocolate off his thumb, a selfie where they were feeding each other.

“all done with school,” Jeremy captioned them.

Within seconds, he had a text from Kevin:

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Kevin:** You’d better be working out later  
  
**Jeremy:** i’d love to, but i’ve got a plane to catch  
  
**Kevin:** Excuses, excuses!  
  
Going home?  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah :)  
  


“What does Kevin say?” Laila asked.

“How do you know it’s him?”

“You get this expression on your face when you’re texting him. I can’t describe it. It’s not the I’m-hopelessly-in-love-with-you one you get when it’s Jaimie, but it’s not the I’m-texting-a-friend one either. It’s somewhere in between? I’ll take a picture next time.”

He smiled. “You spend too much time watching me.”

“I’m watching _over_ you.”

“Mhm, alright. Will you watch over Hector, too?”

“Of course.”

Laila had offered to take Hector home with her during summer break since she was staying in L.A. at her parents’ house. Jeremy didn’t like the idea of being away from him for weeks, but he wasn’t sure how Hector would fare on a plane and, more importantly, how well he would get along with his family’s pets. Also, bringing Hector along during his road trip with Jaimie was out of the question.

“I’m going to need constant updates. You know I have mild separation anxiety,” he said.

“I will install webcams all around the house and you can spend your holidays watching the feed, how does that sound?” Laila joked.

“Creepy. But also kind of adorable. Like, if it was just Hector and not you and your parents, too.”

“We should think about that. No, really, though,” she got serious. “Trojan fans are obsessed with Hector. We could put up a live feed and ask fans to pay a 10$ subscription fee. Fifty percent would go to some charity—maybe an animal shelter—and the rest would fund our yearly bonding retreat.”

Jeremy laughed. “You are completely crazy and I love you for that.”


	17. Chapter 16: The Power Trapped Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin starts making plans for the future. Plans that involve Jeremy.

_You won't get much closer  
Until you sacrifice it all  
You won't get to taste it  
With your face against the wall  
Get up and commit  
Show the power trapped within  
Do just what you want to  
And now stand up and begin  
_—“Panic Station” by Muse

## Chapter 16: The Power Trapped Within

The following week, the US Court was invited to Evermore so they could all practice together. Coach Anderson not-so-subtly implied that he would have rather had Riko and Kevin go to him. But Tetsuji Moriyama wanted his two players to keep practicing with the Ravens as much as possible and he wasn’t a man who was easily told no. He always had his way when it came to Exy.

Kevin didn’t mind. It meant one extra week here with Jean before traveling to Baltimore with Riko to practice with the Wildcats. Only a third of the Ravens were still at Evermore. Most of them had gone home for summer break, but a good number had chosen to stay to keep practicing. Jean, of course, was there too. Not by choice but because he didn’t have one.

On Monday night, Kevin sent Jeremy a picture of himself wearing his new Court uniform.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Exclusive content for my favorite fan.  
  
**Jeremy:** !!!  
  
KEVIN!!!  
  
WOW!  
  
you look great in it  
  
**Kevin:** :)  
  


Kevin leaned back against the headboard and went back to his book—a volume on the early history of Ireland—but was soon distracted by new messages from Jeremy. He didn’t mind the interruption at all. Ever since their brunch, they’d been texting daily, usually several times a day.

Jeremy had been sending him old pictures of Hector (“i miss him so much already,” he’d written) and new pictures of himself eating things that were most definitely _not_ on his meal plan. Kevin had been texting him every weird and interesting fact he read in his book, as well as comments on his exams last week and on an interview for Men’s Health Magazine he’d done with Riko. It was good. It was comforting. It was a lifeline to a different world.

**Jeremy:** i can’t imagine playing for three teams  
  
it must be intense  
  
i hope you find time for some well-deserved r&r  
  
**Kevin:** I will. I promised you a lunch date, didn’t I?  
  
**Jeremy:** one lunch date with a friend doesn’t count as r&r  
  
i meant, like, a week off or something  
  


A week off?

Not in Kevin’s world. He couldn’t imagine being away from the court for that long.

**Kevin:** Time off is for losers.  
  
**Jeremy:** time off is for human beings who get tired and need to recharge their batteries  
  
**Kevin:** I’m not tired.  
  


He _wasn’t_. (He couldn’t be.)

You didn’t get to the top by taking time off, and that’s where Kevin wanted to be. He wasn’t tired: he was working towards his goal.

**Jeremy:** okay  
  
well, tbh, i’m not getting much rest either  
  
i’ve spent the last two days reading fairytales and building pillow forts  
  
i’m taking them to the court this afternoon  
  
**Kevin:** Do any of them play?  
  
**Jeremy:** not yet, they’re too young  
  
but i’ll show them some moves :))  
  


“Who are you texting?”

Riko had stepped into the room and was looking down at Kevin.

_Fuck_.

Kevin hadn’t heard him.

“My professor,” Kevin lied, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I’m trying to get some reading done now so I’ll have more time to practice once school starts again, but I need some information on which chapters I should focus on.”

He tried to look relaxed even though his skin was crawling with fear. If Riko asked to see his phone—

“It’s not a bad idea,” Riko said instead. He took a seat at the foot of Kevin’s bed and picked up the book, turned it over in his hands. “Ireland?”

Heart thumping loudly in his chest, Kevin nodded.

“It won’t make her any less dead. You’re still all alone, Kevin. I’m all the family you’ve got.” Riko said the cruel words with carelessness, as if he was making a casual comment on a movie instead of ripping Kevin’s world apart.

Kevin swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I know,” he said quietly.

He lowered his eyes and forced himself not to flinch when Riko patted his leg. The touch wasn’t meant to comfort but to remind him that he was Riko’s and that Riko could and would punish him if he stepped out of line.

Riko seemed satisfied with his answer and got back up, carelessly tossing the book on the bed. Only once Riko had left did Kevin dare pick it back up and reverently smooth down the creased pages. His hands were shaking.

He took a couple of deep breaths hoping to regain his footing before deleting his conversation with Jeremy. His survival instinct screamed for him to block Jeremy’s number and forget about him, but he couldn’t.

_He couldn’t._

The list of things Kevin refused to give up had always been a short one: Exy, Jean, history. He refused to live without them because life wouldn’t have been worth living without. Over the past few months, Jeremy had carved a place for himself on that list, with his kindness and the way he saw Kevin—the real Kevin.

He looked at the only message left on the screen—“anytime, kevin”—and he almost called Jeremy. He could tell him—Could he tell him everything? Would Jeremy believe him? Would Jeremy—What _would_ Jeremy do? What _could_ Jeremy do? He was powerless against the Moriyamas. Telling him only put him in danger.

Kevin took another deep breath to steady himself and pocketed his phone.

_The Olympics. Gold._

He could do it. Eyes on the prize. It would all be worth it.

* * *

The following day, Kevin found a picture from Jeremy waiting for him when he finished afternoon practice. There were three children—two girls, one boy—sitting court-side on the bench. Kevin recognized the girls as Jeremy’s sisters from earlier pictures. The boy had to be a cousin, or maybe one of his nephews.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Your fan club is cuter than mine.  
  
**Jeremy:** hey!! i’m cute :))  
  
(but yeah, they are)  
  
**Kevin:** They look old enough to play. Why don’t I see any racquets in their hands?  
  
**Jeremy:** my sisters don’t like sports, and my cousin is five  
  
**Kevin:** Five is old enough.  
  


A custom-made green racquet with his name on it had been his fifth birthday present from his mom. Sometimes Kevin wondered what had happened to it. He knew his mother had kept it after he’d outgrown it, but he didn’t know what had been of her things after the accident. He would have liked to have something of hers. Her notebooks, maybe, the ones with early ideas for the rules of Exy. Or maybe a picture, one he didn’t get from an article, one that was his alone.

He shrugged off the thought and read Jeremy’s replies:

**Jeremy:** not according to my aunt  
  
it didn’t help that i still had bruises from the final when i came home  
  
so technically thea and jean are to blame  
  
**Kevin:** Do you want to tell them? They’re in the next room.  
  
**Jeremy:** no, i’d like to live, thank you  
  
**Kevin:** Thought so :)  
  
**Jeremy:** how are you?  
  


Jeremy asked that a lot. How are you, how are you doing, how are things—Jeremy was always asking. As usual, Kevin made his answer about Exy.

**Kevin:** I’m alright. The team is strong, we’re learning how to work together. It’s a work in progress. It doesn’t help that Smithson’s an asshole.  
  
**Jeremy:** he graduated from penn state, what did you expect? :))  
  
what’s he doing?  
  


What _wasn’t_ Smithson doing? He hated Ravens on principle and wasn’t shy about his opinions. He’d gotten into a fight with Thea on her first day: he still had a black eye and Kevin doubted he was ever going to question her presence on the team again. He was dismissing and patronizing to Riko and Kevin. _To Riko and Kevin_. As if he shouldn’t consider himself lucky to be playing with them. As if he was worthy to be on the same court as the King of Exy and his right-hand man.

He wasn’t as good as they were. He didn’t practice as hard as they did. He didn’t make the sacrifices they made. Exy was a job he loved; it wasn’t _his life_.

**Kevin:** He’s pissed off that Riko and I are so young. He keeps calling us “kids” which is fucking annoying. Just because it took him 25 years to get here, why can’t it only take us 19? We earned our right to be here.  
  
**Jeremy:** you make it look effortless  
  
he’s jealous  
  


If Riko hadn’t been down the hall watching a game, Kevin would’ve called Jeremy and explained exactly why he was wrong. He typed an angry reply instead.

**Kevin:** Not you too, Jeremy. Of course he’s jealous. Everyone’s jealous. Nobody wants to put in the work it takes to become this good. They all think it’s 100% talent, like I don’t even have to practice. Fuck them.  
  


And fuck Jeremy if he didn’t get it either. He should, after all these months. He had to know that Kevin had earned his place as the second-best striker in the country. He had to know it hadn’t just been handed to him. He had to—

**Jeremy:** hey, i’m on your side  
  
i know how hard you work  
  
i know you deserve everything you’ve got and more  
  
if anything, i worry you work too hard  
  
all i’m saying is: you’re so good that it APPEARS you don’t have to work for it and he’s jealous  
  
take it as a compliment  
  


Kevin felt the tightness in his chest ease a little. Jeremy _did_ get it. He _knew_. He was on his side.

“I have a right to be pissed off,” Kevin typed anyway. Just because _Jeremy_ got it, it didn’t mean that asshole Smithson did.

**Jeremy:** you do. you can also choose to be flattered instead  
  
**Kevin:** Is that how you win the Day Spirit Award every year?  
  
**Jeremy:** it’s how i don’t spend most of my life angry at some asshole who doesn’t matter  
  
**Kevin:** You’re talking about the starting dealer of the national team…  
  
But I get your point.  
  


He didn’t know if he could take the high road the way Jeremy did, though, and he knew that Riko sure as hell wouldn’t. Riko wasn’t going to stand for such disrespect and Smithson would soon get what was coming to him. It was surprising Riko hadn’t acted already. Not that he’d taken the comments lying down, but he hadn’t _hurt_ Smithson yet. He had to restrain himself because the national team wasn’t the Ravens. He wasn’t _King_. He didn’t have absolute power.

_Yet._

**Jeremy:** if he thinks you don’t deserve to be there, he’s an asshole and his opinion doesn’t matter even if he’s the starting dealer of the national team. i stand by that  
  


“Thank you, Jeremy,” Kevin typed back sincerely.

And then—

An idea hit him.

* * *

Kevin had to wait two days before he could talk to Jeremy about it. He was quivering with excitement but he had to make sure he was alone. His chance came on Thursday when Riko and Smithson were called into Anderson’s office to sort out “the situation.” Kevin made to follow them because wherever Riko went he did too, but Anderson told him he’d talk to him later.

“You shouldn’t wait around,” he added. “This is going to take a while. I’ll have someone call you when we’re done.”

It was more luck than Kevin had been hoping for.

He quickly retreated to his room and closed the door before texting Jeremy.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** I really should not be doing this since we’re rivals on the court, but have you ever considered playing with a heavier racquet?  
  


He waited for a reply, hoping—_praying_—that one would come right away. It was 9 PM in Seattle. Jeremy might be out. He might not even check his phone until—

**Jeremy:** yes, last year  
  
i tried but couldn’t make it work  
  


Kevin called him.

“Hey.”

“Define, I tried.”

“Hi, Jeremy. It’s so nice to talk to you. How’ve you been doing?” Jeremy teased him.

Kevin almost rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all that. And: define, I tried.”

“Oh, Kevin.” Jeremy laughed—Fuck, Kevin had missed his laugh—but then got serious. “I got one. Practiced with it for about a week. It was a trainwreck. Coach R. and I decided I was better off using a lighter racquet.”

“It takes some time to get used to it but it would add a lot of strength to your shots.”

“It’s not worth it if I lose accuracy.”

True, but irrelevant because accuracy was something you could work on and perfect.

“You just have to stick with it. Practice until you’re just as accurate as before,” Kevin said, relaxing into the conversation. “It’s muscle memory. Repetition is key. Some people get there faster but any striker can master a heavier racquet if they train long enough and it’s so worth it.”

“So you’re calling me lazy now.” Jeremy sounded amused.

“I’m saying you gave up too fast. I’m saying you’ve got an entire summer ahead of you.”

“I’m here to spend time with my family.”

“Won’t it be worth it when you make Court?”

There was a brief astonished silence on the other end of the line before Jeremy said, “Court?”

“The Olympics are next summer. A gold medal would look good around your neck. You and I, Jeremy, Rio 2016.”

_You and I_.

It had always been Riko and Kevin. Always, since Kevin could remember.

Riko and Kevin. Riko and Kevin. Riko and Kevin.

But what if—secretly, privately—it could be he and Jeremy too? What if they could play together, win together? He would always be tied to Riko, but maybe—maybe he could have Jeremy too. Maybe, so long as they were winning, so long as Riko was number one and Kevin was number two, so long as their fans didn’t know about it—maybe Riko would let him have Jeremy.

“You really think I can get there?” Jeremy asked.

“I know you can. The question is, will you?”

“Say it again.”

“I know you—”

“No, the part about Rio.”

Kevin smiled. “You and I, gold medals around our necks. Your little fanclub watching from the stands.”

“You really know how to motivate people, you know that?”

“I know,” Kevin said, even though he didn’t. He knew how to manipulate people, not motivate them. But he wasn’t manipulating Jeremy, was he? He was only pushing him to be better. He was telling him what his future could be like.

“You should be captain,” Jeremy said.

“Riko’s captain.”

“He shouldn’t be. It should be you.”

This was more than Kevin was able to handle. Riko was King. That was indisputable. He was number one. Always had been and always will be.

He sighed. “Jeremy.”

“Whatever. Has Smithson been behaving?”

“Yeah, after Riko threatened to castrate him.”

Jeremy laughed.

It wasn’t a joke. Riko really had done that. (And hit him with his racquet in the locker rooms. And planned to waterboard him and maybe kill him. But Jeremy didn’t need to know that. Couldn’t know that.)

“Will you give a heavy racquet another try?” Kevin asked, changing the subject.

“I will. Can I call you coach Day?”

“No.”

“Can I text you if I have questions?”

Kevin _loved_ the idea. He hoped Jeremy would. “Of course,” he said eagerly.

“Thank you, coach Day.”

“Stop it.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“How old are you?”

“Almost twenty-one.”

That’s not where Kevin was going and Jeremy had to know it. He could be insufferable sometimes.

“That’s not—Whatever. When’s your birthday anyway?”

“Monday.”

Right. Jeremy had mentioned something about it. Kevin made a mental note to get him a present and to send him a message.

“How are you celebrating?” he asked.

“Family dinner, then a party with my high school friends and a few friends from the team who live close enough. Jaimie’s coming. I heard they plan on getting me so drunk I won’t be able to stand.”

“It sounds… awful, actually.”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

Kevin looked at the time. He probably still had a while longer, but he was getting nervous. What if Riko stormed out of the office and came back early? What if the conversation with Anderson took less than Kevin expected?

“I should go.”

Jeremy hummed softly. “I’ll let you know how it goes with the heavy racquet.”

“Please do.”

“Bye, coach Day.”

“Bye, Captain Sunshine.”

He hung up and deleted the call from his history, then sat at his desk and turned on his laptop. While he waited for it to boot, he received a new message from Jeremy.

**Jeremy:** you know i don’t hate that :))  
  
**Kevin:** Whatever. I’ll have to find something you hate then.  
  
**Jeremy:** love you too lol  
  
**Kevin:** Fuck off.  
  
:)  
  


He smiled at his phone and shook his head, then opened his Internet browser and did a quick search for stores dedicated to Exy-gear in Seattle. There was only one worth considering. He opened their online store and looked at the models available.

He’d seen Jeremy play—both on TV and in person. He quickly narrowed it down to four models that could work well for him. “Try these ones,” he texted Jeremy, followed by the model numbers.

**Jeremy:** you can’t possibly know they would work for me  
  
**Kevin:** I can and I do. Trust me.  
  


He heard voices—Riko’s voice—in the distance. He deleted the conversation and his browser history, then quickly opened a new tab. By the time Riko opened the door, he was pretending to be looking up Smithson’s college stats.

“He wants to see you,” Riko said in Japanese. “Go. We’ll talk later. He’s a problem we’ll have to fix.”

Kevin wasn’t sure if Riko meant Smithson or Anderson; he didn’t ask for now. He obediently stood up and left the room.

* * *

The following night, Jeremy sent him a picture of his new racquet. Kevin was pleased to see it was one of the models he’d suggested. He knew Jeremy would pick the right one. “Good choice,” he texted back.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** it’s :) a :) fucking :) nightmare :)  
  
**Kevin:** Don’t give up.  
  
I know it feels weird in the beginning but you’ll get the hang of it. I know you can do it.  
  
**Jeremy:** i want to break something  
  
it’s so frustrating  
  
**Kevin:** Rio. You and I. Gold medals.  
  
**Jeremy:** alright alright  
  
damn  
  
it’s a nice dream  
  


“It’s not a dream, it’s a plan,” Kevin replied at the same time as Jeremy added, “(you know, i’ll take a bronze medal so long as we get to play together)”

A bronze medal? That was the _bare minimum_ and it simply wouldn’t do. He needed Jeremy to understand that. If he was going to be Court, he had to be in it to win.

**Kevin:** I want to play with you. I also want a gold medal.  
  
**Jeremy:** duh. same  
  
i meant that playing with you would be the real treat :))  
  
a gold medal would just be the icing on the cake  
  
**Kevin:** You’re flirting with me again  
  
**Jeremy:** always  
  
**Kevin:** Hey, are you free next week on Saturday?  
  
**Jeremy:** you mean for the seattle v. baltimore game? :)  
  


For some reason, he hadn’t expected Jeremy to know about it. They’d never talked much about professional teams, and he’d figured that Jeremy didn’t follow their championship. Apparently, he did. Either that, or he’d googled the Wildcats’ schedule.

**Kevin:** Yes. Are you coming?  
  
**Jeremy:** of course!  
  
i’ve got a friend on the team :)  
  
**Kevin:** I’m still waiting for our schedule. I hope we’ll get some time for a drink or something.  
  
**Jeremy:** fingers crossed :)  
  


It would be a nice change, having someone in the stands who was there for him. Not a fan, a _friend_. Someone who would have been there even if Kevin hadn’t been number two in the country. Someone who was there to support him no matter what.

Sometimes he liked to imagine that his father knew who he was and came to his games. Maybe he couldn’t approach him because the Master wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he had a family. It didn’t matter why. Kevin liked to imagine that he was there and was proud of him.

It was a silly dream. He knew it wasn’t true. But occasionally he let himself indulge in it.

Having Jeremy there wouldn’t be the same but it would be—_something_.

* * *

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Happy birthday, Jeremy!  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you! :)  
  
**Kevin:** Have fun tonight.  
  
In unrelated news… we’re spending the night in Seattle and Riko will have dinner with Coach and some family friends.  
  


Kevin had learned that the night before and he’d wanted to text Jeremy right away but he hadn’t been alone until now. Riko had taken great pleasure in telling him that he wasn’t invited because he wasn’t family. Years ago, when Kevin was still a kid, when the memory of his mom was still fresh, when he still believed in family, it would have hurt him.

Now it was a cause for celebration. Riko being busy all night meant he could meet with Jeremy.

**Jeremy:** awesome! best birthday present ever :))  
  
**Kevin:** That’s not your birthday present. That’s *when* you’re getting your birthday present.  
  
**Jeremy:** that sounds like you’re gonna put a bow on your head and tell me you’re my present :))  
  


Again with the flirting.

Was it happening more frequently, or did Kevin notice it more since their brunch together?

**Kevin:** Not gonna happen.  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah, i figured  
  
for the record, i wouldn’t hate that  
  
**Kevin:** I’m aware  
  


Aware and interested. But he couldn’t have Jeremy, not like that.

Jean wouldn’t have minded; it wasn’t like that between them. But a _relationship_ wasn’t something Kevin Day was supposed to have or even want. He was encouraged to have sex—with girls, of course—and he would, someday, get married—to the right woman, probably chosen or at least approved by the Master.

Love?

Love was for people who didn’t have a destiny. People who weren’t the second-best players in the nation. People who didn’t win gold medals at the Olympics.

**Jeremy:** anyway, i know just where to take you. we’ll have fun, i promise  
  
**Kevin:** Just so you know, I don’t have a fake ID.  
  
**Jeremy:** you won’t need it, don’t worry  
  
i don’t want to get you drunk :))  
  
it’s a quiet place where we can talk. there’s music but it’s not too loud, cool vibe, and the food is good if you’re hungry after the game  
  
**Kevin:** Sounds great. I can’t wait.  
  
**Jeremy:** saturday can’t come soon enough!  
  


Kevin had just put away his phone when Jean came into the room.

“He said yes,” he guessed after a look at Kevin.

Kevin nodded. “I wish you could come.”

“I don’t. I get five days without Riko and two without the Master, too. Do you know when’s the last time that happened? Never.”

Riko and Kevin were traveling to Baltimore tomorrow morning and would spend the rest of the week practicing with the Wildcats. The Master would then join them on Saturday and they would fly to Seattle together for the game.

Jean was staying at Evermore. Next year Jean would likely play for the Wildcats too, but the Master had decided it would be just Riko and Kevin this year to make sure everyone knew that Jean was less than they were.

Just like Kevin appreciated to be left behind on Saturday night, Jean was secretly grateful he was only playing for Edgar Allan.

“Will you be okay, alone with him?” Jean asked.

Kevin knew he didn’t mean Jeremy.

“I’ll be okay. He’s different outside the Nest. He has to be.”

“He’s not. He just pretends to be.”

True. And Riko and Kevin would still be sharing a room. Nobody would know what happened behind that door. But Riko wouldn’t hurt Kevin. Not really. Not in any significant way. Kevin had to be able to play; he had to succeed.

“I will be okay,” Kevin repeated.

Jean stepped closer and put his hands on Kevin’s hips. “Say hello to the Sunshine Child for me.”

“I still think you’d like him if you gave him a chance.”

Instead of replying, Jean warned him. “You’re playing a dangerous game with him.”

“I know.”

“Be careful and come back to me.”

“I will,” Kevin said before kissing him.

There would be no time for goodbyes tomorrow morning. They had to take advantage of the rare moment of privacy now.


	18. Chapter 17: Left Unprotected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Kevin meet after the Wildcats' game in Seattle.

_You were never truly loved  
You have only been betrayed  
You were never truly nurtured  
By churches or the State  
You were left unprotected  
To these wild and fragile lands  
_—“The Globalist” by Muse

## Chapter 17: Left Unprotected

They made for an odd couple, sitting together in a corner, Kevin wearing black from head to toe, Jeremy in a yellow t-shirt with “I would cuddle you so hard” written in large block letters on the front, blue jeans and red sneakers.

Luckily, nobody seemed to notice them. It was hard to believe since Jeremy was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went and Kevin was—well, Kevin was _Kevin Day, Exy legend_; but everyone was too busy talking about the ice hockey game and Kevin was grateful for it. The last thing he needed was pictures of his night out popping up on the Internet.

The place was nice: the low lights and wooden tables made it feel cozy, while the large windows and decorative plants and flowers opened up the space.

They were sitting next to each other rather than on opposite sides of the table so they could speak more easily, and Kevin was staring at Jeremy’s profile while he texted his sister. There were a plate of nachos and two Cokes on the table between them, untouched so far.

“Sorry, I just had to make sure she got home okay,” Jeremy said, putting away his phone.

“No problem.”

Jeremy had come to the game with one of his sisters, a tall girl with short hair and colorful tattoos on her arms who’d left on a motorcycle after kissing Jeremy’s cheek.

“I have to ask,” Kevin said. “You call her your twin but she’s—white.”

Jeremy smiled. “You know, it’s actually possible for mixed-race families to have twins with different skin tones,” he said. “It’s rare though and it’s not the case with Justice and I. We don’t share DNA. Her father and my mother started dating when we were eight. When they got married, he adopted my older sisters and me, and we took his name. By some weird coincidence, Justice was born three hours before I was. Life is weird that way sometimes. We were siblings and we were born basically at the same time, so we figured we had to be twins, right?”

“Right, because that’s how it works.”

“Shut up, we were nine. It made sense.” Jeremy smiled again. It was pretty obvious that he loved talking about his family. “Our parents went along with it. I think they were just glad we were getting on so well. Cass and Cece, our older sisters, tried to explain to us multiple times that it didn’t work that way but we didn’t care, and eventually, they gave up and accepted it too.”

“That’s so cool,” Kevin said. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if the same thing had happened with him and Riko. Not the twins part, the siblings part. He dismissed the thought. “Does she play Exy?”

“She used to. We played together in high school. She was a decent offensive dealer. Cece used to play, too.”

“So you’re the only Exy player in your family right now?”

“Yeah.”

Conversation was easy now that it was about Exy. Kevin knew how to talk about that. “How’s practice going, by the way?” he asked.

“You know, in the beginning, it was hard, but now I’m at that point when I just hate myself, my life, Exy, _and you_.”

There was no harshness in his words. Kevin didn’t think Jeremy was capable of it.

“So you’re making progress,” Kevin said with a small smile on his lips.

Jeremy laughed. He had a full-body laugh: head tilted back, shoulders shaking. It was one of the most beautiful things Kevin had ever seen outside of an Exy court.

“I’m making something. Not sure I’d call it progress. I think ‘mess’ would be a better word for it,” Jeremy said.

“I wish you could show me. Is there an Exy court in the neighborhood?”

After thinking about it for a few seconds, Jeremy shook his head. “Not one that’s open this late. But I have a video my dad took if you want to see it.”

“Of course. You have it here?”

“Yeah. I—Are you sure this is okay? We’re rivals.”

“I thought we were friends,” Kevin said, surprising even himself.

But the thing was—

The thing was, he’d gotten used to thinking of Jeremy as his friend and he liked how it made him feel. He had never felt so alive, so brave, so _loved_. Not since his mom died anyway. (But that life—life with her—felt more like a dream than an actual memory. Like it happened to someone else and all he had were longing and sorrow.)

Jeremy touched his arm. “_We are_. Of course we are friends. But you know what I mean.”

“Just keep it a secret.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“I’m serious, Jeremy. This never happened. You can’t tell anyone. Not your teammates, not your coaches, not even your friends.”

Kevin tried to keep the panic out of his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded. Jeremy looked at him with a serious expression on his face.

“I get it. I won’t tell anyone.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and looked for the right video, but didn’t play it. “Thank you for doing this,” he said looking at Kevin.

“It’s not entirely selfless. I want to win the Olympics.”

Jeremy smiled. “You know, you could stop being a tough guy for just one minute and admit you’re doing it because you care about me.”

His tone was only half-serious. Kevin had to smile.

“You are—” What? Impossible, too much, not supposed to make him this happy? All of the above? Kevin didn’t finish the sentence and shook his head slowly. “Alright. But I really do want to win the Olympics, too.”

“So you wanna make me worthy of the Perfect Court?”

Kevin froze. “That’s Riko’s thing. And we already have two strikers anyway.”

“So what’s _your_ thing?” Jeremy leaned in. _Interested_.

“My thing.” Kevin hesitated. He’d thought about it but he’d never put it into words. Even imagining it felt like betrayal. He’d always been too scared to talk about it, even with Jean. But Jeremy—Jeremy made him feel invincible. No, not invincible: _safe_. “I’m thinking about a whole team, not just a starting team.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Just show me the damn video,” Kevin said before Jeremy could ask any more questions. He’d already said too much. It was exhilarating but also absolutely terrifying.

Luckily, Jeremy didn’t object and handed his phone over to Kevin.

* * *

Jeremy watched Kevin watch the video of him practicing with his brand-new heavy racquet, feeling slightly self-conscious and suddenly aware that this was his friend Kevin, sure, but also—Exy god Kevin Day.

Kevin played it twice without saying a word, then he restarted it and began showing Jeremy what he was doing wrong and what he could do to improve. He stopped the video several times and slowed it down on a couple of occasions to get his point across more effectively. He was direct and to the point; he didn’t soften his criticism with encouragement, but he always gave him suggestions and tips on how to get past the problem, on how to get better.

Jeremy had seen him play; he knew how good Kevin was. But right now he realized how deep Kevin’s understanding of the game was.

“Don’t give up, okay? I promise it’ll be worth it.” Kevin said eventually, giving Jeremy his phone back. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Rio, Jeremy.”

There was little over a year before the Olympics, so Jeremy only had a few months to impress the US Court and be asked to join the team. It sounded like an impossible goal—except Kevin Day himself was telling him it was within his reach.

Right now, he didn’t even know if he would be able to master the use of his new racquet by the end of August when the Trojans would play their next game. He wanted to trust Kevin, but it would be easier if half his shots didn’t end up two to five inches away from their intended target.

“Mhm, yeah, I know. It’s still so damn hard,” he said. He dropped his head to rest his forehead on Kevin’s shoulder for a moment. When he looked up, Kevin was looking at him. Jeremy’s eyes fell on Kevin’s lips. So inviting. So _close_. They twitched slightly as if Kevin was about to say something, and Jeremy abruptly pulled back and lowered his head.

_Shit_.

Kevin was his friend, his _straight_ friend, not a hook-up. He’d just fucked up big time.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wishing he could disappear from existence.

“It’s okay.”

Jeremy brought the glass to his lips and drank some Coke, more to buy himself time than because he was actually thirsty.

“You’re attractive, I’m lonely. It’s a bad combination,” he said honestly. He still couldn’t meet Kevin’s eyes. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

Kevin sighed. “It was a bad idea, but you weren’t the only one thinking it. Or feeling it. Whatever.”

_Wait, what?_

Jeremy’s head shot up and he looked at Kevin.

Did Kevin just imply—Did he just say he wanted to kiss him too?

Kevin was looking back at him and they stared at each other in silence for what felt like entire minutes. Maybe hours.

“Say something,” Kevin said eventually, voice somewhere between frustrated and terrified.

“My gaydar is broken.”

“That’s what you’re going with?”

The hint of a smile appeared on Kevin’s lips. _Fuck_, he looked infinitely more kissable now that Jeremy knew the feeling was mutual.

“It’s a bad idea,” Jeremy said. A reminder to himself more than anything else.

“Yes,” Kevin agreed.

It was. It was a horrible idea. But—

What was really stopping them? They were both adults, both willing.

“I don’t do one-night stands with people I care about,” he said, starting to list off reasons why it couldn’t happen. (It couldn’t, could it?)

“Okay.”

He went on: “And I don’t do long-distance. We live on opposite sides of the country. I’m not built to handle that. It would be too hard.”

“Agreed.”

Kevin was not giving him much. One-word answers that sounded like he knew it couldn’t happen, but also like he wouldn’t have been objected if it did. Like he was leaving it up to Jeremy.

And Jeremy—Jeremy couldn’t make up his mind.

He wanted Kevin _so badly_. Had wanted the idea of him for years, and the actual real person behind that idea for the past few months, ever since getting to know him better. But he couldn’t. He _couldn’t_. One night would not be enough. It would just mess with Jeremy’s feelings and it would lead to heartache.

“Fuck,” he said, frustrated.

“Also a bad idea,” Kevin dead-panned.

Jeremy laughed, letting some tension out with it.

“This is really fucking with my head,” he admitted.

“I noticed.”

“Fuck, Kevin.”

He looked at him: at his dark hair, at his impossibly green eyes, at the curve of his jaw, at the way his dark shirt hugged his broad shoulders. He wondered what he might look like in his bed: shirt open to reveal the smooth skin under it, lips kiss-swollen, hair messy, elegant hands on Jeremy’s bare skin.

And _hell_—He had to stop before he dragged Kevin into the nearest bathroom stall and begged him to fuck him to high heaven.

He forced himself to look away, dropping his eyes on the almost-untouched plate of nachos in front of him.

“You’re freaking out,” Kevin said a few seconds later. He sounded almost—_amused_?

“A little, yeah. Can you blame me?”

“Is it really that surprising?”

“Yes,” Jeremy said without any hesitation.

“You’re great. Who wouldn’t have a crush on you?” Kevin lowered his voice. It was a little scratchy and it did _things_ to Jeremy.

“So you have a crush on me?”

Kevin shrugged. “Whatever.”

“So,” Jeremy grabbed a couple of tortilla chips and munched on them, trying to calm down or at least to appear as if he was calmer. “So, you have a crush on me and you’re not straight, but nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah. I mean, it can’t change. Right?”

“Right.”

Kevin nodded, paused, then said: “I’m bi.”

“Cool,” Jeremy said nonchalantly.

It took him a few moments to notice the tension in Kevin’s shoulders, the careful way he was looking at him. And okay, he should have realized it immediately. He was so used to being out and having friends who were also out, that he’d forgotten not everyone had that luxury. Kevin clearly didn’t.

“Thank you for telling me,” he added. He tried to meet Kevin’s eyes but they were now glued to the table.

“I’ve never said that out loud before,” Kevin said a few moments later.

“Are you—Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know. Coming out can be hard.”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s you,” he said, making Jeremy smile because _fuck_, that meant something, and it was nice to know that Kevin knew he could trust him.

“I’ve kissed boys before,” Kevin went on after a quick look around them to check nobody was close enough to overhear him. “And girls. I didn’t realize it tonight and I didn’t realize it with you.” He looked down again, tapped his index finger against his glass a few times. “Jean knows. Jean is one of the boys. Jean is _the_ boy.”

“He’s really cute. When he’s not trying to crush my ribs, I mean.” Jeremy smiled. “Are you two together?”

“No. We are—” Kevin seemed to be looking for the right words but quickly gave up. “It’s complicated. Relationships between Ravens are discouraged. We’re friends with benefits, I guess. Secretly, of course. And we’re not exclusive, not really. But it’s—It’s good between us.”

Jeremy remembered Kevin calling Jean his family. Brother, friend, confidant, support system, and lover. It was a lot. No wonder Kevin couldn’t put their relationship into words. It must be hard being away from him, especially since they usually lived together.

“You must miss him,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah. Coach wanted it to be just Riko and me this year. With the Wildcats, I mean,” Kevin explained.

“The press is loving it.” Every single sports channel, magazine, and website was full of pictures of Kevin and Riko playing together: as Ravens, as Wildcats, and now for the national team. The two of them standing side by side wearing the same uniform, doing post-game interviews together, going out together, posing for pictures with fans, both in black and always within a few feet of each other. Sometimes even Jeremy had a hard time remembering it was all pretend. They played their roles perfectly, and from the outside, it was impossible to tell that they weren’t as close as it got.

But Kevin had told him that they were never brothers. And he hadn’t mentioned Riko once tonight.

“How are things with him?” Jeremy asked.

“With Riko? We’re okay,” Kevin said easily. The tightness in his muscles told a different story. “I’m good.”

He smiled. _Fake_. Convincing, but fake. Jeremy could tell by now. He’d seen what Kevin’s real smile looked like and this wasn’t it. “Don’t give me the press smile, Kevin.”

“I’m doing okay. You don’t have to worry.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Jeremy scooped up some guacamole with a tortilla chip and munched on it. His gut was telling him not to trust Kevin’s words, but his head decided that he didn’t really have a choice: he couldn’t force Kevin to talk about it if he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready. Or maybe he just didn’t want to talk to Jeremy about it.

He had Jean. He was okay.

Time to change the subject since Kevin seemed uncomfortable with it.

“So, my flirting worked.” Jeremy smiled and looked at his friend, trying to get them to a place where they could joke about it and it wouldn’t be weird.

“Your flirting made me wonder how you ever got laid,” Kevin shot back.

“Oh, you’re gonna give me advice on how to flirt now, coach Day?” Jeremy teased.

“You wish.”

“Do you even need to flirt?”

“I—”

“You don’t. Of course, you don’t.” Jeremy laughed quietly.

“Like _you_ need to flirt.”

“I do. And I like to flirt. I like that… magnetism in the air.” He raised his hand between them and moved his fingers to indicate the sparks between two people.

Kevin was about to reply when his phone rang and he _froze._ And hell, that wasn’t a normal reaction to a phone call, was it? Jeremy studied him as he looked at the display and visibly relaxed. He put his phone back down on the table, screen up, and didn’t answer.

The name on the display said, _Jean_.

“You’re not gonna pick up?” Jeremy asked even though it probably wasn’t any of his business. Scratch that, it _definitely_ wasn’t.

Kevin shrugged. “I’ll call him back later.”

“Take the call. I’ll get us some refills.”

Jeremy got up and walked to the bar bringing their almost-empty glassed with him. He took his time talking to the bartender and asking her for advice on non-alcoholic cocktails. He didn’t know much about them since he usually had a beer or a Coke when he went out unless Laila or Jaimie were with him and ordered his drinks for him. They knew what he liked; he liked to let his best friends pick out drinks for him and never learned the names.

He settled on a virgin pineapple-mint Mojito for Kevin and a Mango Mule for himself. (Kevin liked pineapple, right? Jeremy vaguely remembered him asking for extra pineapple in his fruit salad back when they had brunch a few weeks ago.)

He looked at Kevin while he waited for the bartender to make the drinks. He looked relaxed, at ease. He was even more beautiful than usual.

He was still on the phone when Jeremy went back to the table and placed their drinks on it. Kevin looked at him.

“Mocktails,” Jeremy mouthed.

Kevin nodded, then smiled and said something to Jean in French. Jeremy didn’t understand the words, but the tenderness in his voice broke all language barriers.

Kevin stayed on the phone for a minute longer, then said his goodbyes and hung up.

“You speak French very well,” Jeremy said. “I mean, I don’t know, I couldn’t understand a word, but it seemed like you’re fluent.”

“Jean taught me,” Kevin said, and it was like he was sharing a secret with Jeremy. Maybe he was.

“How is he?”

“He’s okay. He says hi.”

“Hi back.” Jeremy smiled. “When are you gonna see him?”

“We have a game against Germany next weekend. We’ll play at Evermore, so Jean will be there.”

Jean was at Evermore? During summer break? No wonder the Ravens were unbeatable. They didn’t seem to grasp the concept of time off.

Kevin seemed to be following his thoughts and apparently felt like he had to explain. “Some Ravens stay at Evermore and practice year-round,” he said. “Jean’s family—They’re not close. So he’s staying.”

“It’s intense. I don’t think I could do it,” Jeremy said honestly.

Kevin shrugged. “You’ve got to make some sacrifices if you want to be the best.”

“Agreed. But there are sacrifices I wouldn’t be willing to make.”

“Maybe you just have more to lose. Not everyone has your family.”

Kevin spoke softly, no accusation in his voice, but Jeremy still cursed himself for talking before thinking. “I know. I’m sorry if I—”

“It’s fine,” Kevin interrupted.

Jeremy looked at him. He wasn’t sure if it really was _fine_ but either way, he felt like he had to explain. “I know I’m lucky. And you’re right, if I didn’t have them my priorities would be different. But as it stands I can’t imagine putting Exy before them.”

“I get it.” Kevin looked down at his hands. “If I could have my mom back by giving up Exy, I would.”

He whispered the last few words, which Jeremy didn’t understand. Was that a secret? Wasn’t that what anyone would do? Kevin clearly loved his mother, so of course he’d give up Exy to have her back. It didn’t feel like it was his place to ask him about it, though, so Jeremy just put a hand on his arm and hoped his friend would find the touch comforting.

“What would you like to be if Exy wasn’t an option?” he asked him, trying to bring the conversation back to happier topics.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

Jeremy had a few chips covered in melted cheese, guacamole and salsa while he gave Kevin time to think about it.

“I like photography,” Kevin said eventually. “I think I would like to travel and take pictures.”

“Mhm, yeah, that does sound nice. So, tourist?” Jeremy teased.

Kevin laughed softly. “Travel photographer.”

“I think that’s just a fancy word for tourist.”

“It’s not. Mr. Philosopher. Like that’s a real job.”

“Oh, no. If I didn’t have Exy, I would have picked a more practical major. I might have studied law, like my mom and my sister Cassandra.”

Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that Cass, who’d spent her teenage years finding every possible way to fight their mother on any and everything, big or small, had chosen to study Law of all things.

“You’re not ruthless enough to be a lawyer,” Kevin declared.

And alright, maybe he was right. Defending a guilty client and using every trick he knew to get him off easy didn’t sound like something he could do, especially if he wanted to be able to sleep at night, and the pressure of defending an innocent would crush him.

“Whatever. Maybe I would just play lacrosse.”

“Don’t even joke about it.”

“I’m not joking,” he said with a smile, even though he was.

“Go sit somewhere else. I don’t hang out with lacrosse players.”

Jeremy laughed. “That’s discrimination.”

“Well, they deserve it.”

“Not all of them,” Jeremy said. “People are more than one thing. You’re a Raven, I’m a Trojan, we shouldn’t be friends. But you’re so much more than Kevin the Raven. You’re Kevin who makes clever jokes and laughs quietly at my stupid ones. You’re Kevin who takes stunning pictures and doesn’t even seem to realize how talented he is. You’re Kevin who loves history, who’s so passionate about it, whose eyes light up when he talks about it, and who got me into it because he made it sound like the best subject in the world.”

“It is.”

Kevin was smiling and it was breathtaking. Jeremy smiled back. And maybe he should have stopped talking but that wasn’t something he seemed to be able to do at the moment.

“You’re Kevin who pushes me to be better and who’s letting me eat a whole family-sized plate of nachos by myself. You don’t smile easily but when you do it is so charming and beautiful that I find it hard to focus. You look at me like I’m this exotic creature that doesn’t quite belong in your world. You…”

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to stop talking or I’m going to kiss you.”

Jeremy smiled again. “And that’s still a bad idea?”

“Terrible.”

“Mhm. ‘kay.”

It didn’t sound like a bad idea. It sounded like the best idea in the history of humanity. Why had they decided not to kiss again? He couldn’t remember, or maybe he didn’t want to. He kind of wished his drink had Vodka in it, at least he could have blamed it for the way he was feeling.

“If things were different…”

“I know,” he said, even though he really didn’t, not right now. “Maybe when we win the Olympics. And if Jean wants to join us, I have no objections.”

Kevin looked at him with an amused expression on his face. “You have a type, you know? Tall Exy players.”

“Mhm. More like tall, talented guys with pretty eyes and beautiful, strong hands.”

“Alright, you _are_ good at flirting,” Kevin admitted with a smile that looked half-flattered and half-amused.

Jeremy smiled back. Readily and brightly. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, maybe I was. I can’t help it when I’m around you.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

Keven studied him for a few moments. Jeremy felt the weight of his eyes on him. Kevin’s attention was something that was almost physical. “That’s not why I like you,” he said eventually.

“It isn’t?”

“You’re kind. You’re passionate.” Kevin was speaking slowly, picking his words carefully. “You care so much and you’re not afraid to show people that you care. That’s special.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe where you come from. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes.”

Jeremy stuffed more tortilla chips in his mouth because the alternative was kissing Kevin right there and then, not even caring about who might be watching.

“You’re not making it easy for me not to kiss you,” he said once he was done chewing.

“Then we’re even.”

Kevin picked up one tortilla chip—no cheese, only salsa and a little sour cream, and ate it slowly. Jeremy looked away. He should really stop staring at Kevin’s hands and lips. Like it wasn’t already hard enough.

“Tell me about your road trip,” Kevin said.

“That was a very subtle change of subject.”

Jeremy smiled, teasing, and Kevin smiled back.

“Fuck off.”

“We’re going to drive down the coast. We don’t really have a plan. We’ll just stop wherever we feel like it. I’ve done it last summer with two of my sisters but we only went as far as San Francisco. This time Jaimie and I will drive all the way down to L.A., where we’ll meet with Laila and Sara.”

“Dermott and Alvarez?”

“Yes,” Jeremy confirmed. “Laila’s family’s from L.A. so we’re going to stay at their place for a few days before going back to USC. Coach R. wants us there on the 9th for summer practices. The L.A. Pride’s on the 6th so we’ll all go together.”

“It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to join us if you decide to ditch the national team.”

“Would you?”

“Hell no,” Jeremy said honestly. Because he loved the pride parade, but—_priorities_.

They both laughed.

“So you’re going to be in L.A. on the 8th?” Kevin asked.

“Definitely. At Laila’s. We’ll move back into the dorms on the 9th, in the early afternoon. It’s a short drive to USC.” Jeremy looked at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to be there for a couple of days to tape a show and do a couple of interviews. I think I’ll have time to meet if you don’t have plans already.”

Jeremy smiled. This was some unexpected good news. Very, very good news. He didn’t think he’d be able to see Kevin again before the end of the year. “I’ll be all yours,” he said.


	19. Chapter 18: The Perfect Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Jaimie go on their road trip. Kevin plays his first game with the US Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to take a break from this fanfic, but now that RL is getting back to normal I plan on resuming updating weekly(-ish).
> 
> I am incredibly grateful for the comments I've received and I will reply to them all. It might take me a while longer to get caught up with replies but I cherish all comments and kudos. ♥ I just have limited free time and social energy.

_Let's paint the picture of the perfect place  
They've got it better than what anyone's told ya  
_—“All the Right Moves” by OneRepublic

## Chapter 18: The Perfect Place

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hope your flight back was alright  
  
**Kevin:** It was okay.  
I had fun last night. I needed a night out.  
**Jeremy:** me too!!  
we’ll do it again soon when you’re in cali  
  
**Kevin:** I can’t wait!  


* * *

On Monday, Jeremy practiced for three hours trying to apply Kevin’s advice, but it wasn’t until the following day that it finally clicked. It didn’t happen instantly, but just about. His shots got much more precise, almost as good as with a lighter racquet, and he finally saw what Kevin meant. The difference between what he could do before and now was unbelievable.

He needed more practice, of course, but he finally felt like he could actually do it.

He wanted to text Kevin right away but then decided to wait until he was back home so he would have time to chat for a bit if Kevin was up for it. Once he got home, however, he was recruited by his dad to help with dinner. He groaned even though he didn’t really mind. He liked spending time with his dad. It never felt like enough. Soon he’d be leaving again for his trip with Jaimie and he wouldn’t see his family again until his mom’s birthday in September.

After dinner, he went up to his room and Facetimed Jaimie. They had a few details about their road trip to discuss, but they spent most of the time catching up as if they weren’t sending each other a billion messages a day.

He hung up when his little sisters came into his room to demand a bedtime story, which turned into two stories and a very long conversation on why wizards were good and witches were evil. Alice Hope was too smart for her own good: seven years old and already using words like “patriarchy” and “oppression.” Jeremy was equally proud and scared.

Once Alice Hope and Avery were finally asleep, Jeremy got out of their room and back into his own. He turned on the TV, keeping the volume low. The Exy channel he subscribed to was re-airing last year’s game between the US and Germany in preparation for that weekend’s rematch. He got settled on the couch and smiled when less than a minute later Xena, his dog, joined him. She cuddled up next to him and looked up at him, happy just to be with him.

“Spoiler alert,” he said petting her head. “Germany’s gonna win. But this year we’ve got Kevin on our line so I’m pretty sure we’ll destroy them.”

He kept an eye on the game while he texted Kevin.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** fine, i’ll just go ahead and admit it  
  
you were right  
  
**Kevin:** I know.  
  
About what? :)  
  


Jeremy rolled his eyes and smiled. Same old Kevin.

**Jeremy:** lol  
  
switching to a heavier racquet  
  
thanks to your advice it’s finally working out  
  


He wanted Kevin to know he was grateful. Kevin could have very well kept his mouth shut, or told him to try without giving him any more advice. After all, on the court, they were rivals. Kevin had gone above and beyond to help him and Jeremy couldn’t thank him enough.

Now he couldn’t wait to show his coach and teammates what he was capable of. And, of course, to use his new racquet in a game and see how deadly it really was against an actual team.

**Kevin:** Awesome! I told you it was worth it.  
  
**Jeremy:** you did. i’m glad i trusted you, coach day  
  
**Kevin:** Still not a fan of you calling me that.  
  


“Coach Day sounds good, doesn’t it?” he asked Xena, who unsurprisingly didn’t reply.

On the screen, Germany was about to score for the first time. He kept his eyes on their strikers, admiring their fluid movements, and only looked back down at his phone when the action was over and the crowd was celebrating.

**Jeremy:** hey, i’d call you “my boyfriend kevin” but you live too far away  
  
**Kevin:** So it’s my fault?  
  
**Jeremy:** 100%  
  
:))  
  


* * *

The following Friday, Jaimie picked him up in the early afternoon. Jeremy said goodbye to his family and even managed not to cry until he was sitting in the car and Jaimie was driving away. Leaving was always hard, no matter how much he liked his life in California.

No matter how often he called and texted his family—and he did, constantly—it was never enough. He wished he could be in multiple places at once: at USC, but also in Seattle with his parents and younger sisters, and Chicago with Justice, and New York with Cass, and Vancouver with Cecelia and her wife and sons.

Jaimie held his hand for the good part of an hour until Jeremy started feeling better and got into the carefree spirit of a road trip. They switched pretty soon after that: Jaimie was a better driver, but he was also a significantly better navigator. Also, it was easier to talk this way: Jaimie would speak so Jeremy could keep his eyes on the road, and Jeremy would sign with his right hand.

“Taylor left me a comment on Insta this morning,” Jaimie said at some point.

“What? What did he say?”

“Have a nice trip.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

This road trip was supposed to be Jaimie and Taylor’s thing until Taylor had decided he wanted out of the relationship. Jeremy would have liked to know if that comment was ironic or if Taylor just didn’t care. He didn’t know which one he should hope for.

“Block him,” he told Jaimie.

“No. I don’t want him to know that I care.”

“Please tell me you’re not still following him at least,” Jeremy signed.

“Of course not. I mean, I check his profile for updates twice a day, but I unfollowed him.” Jaimie paused the conversation to give Jeremy some directions and then picked it back up. “Anyway, I shouldn’t reply, right?”

“Right.”

“Am I a bad person if I want to post five thousand pictures of _our_ road trip?”

Jeremy took advantage of the long, straight road to look at him. “No. You’re one of the best people I know. Wanting to show that asshole what he’s missing out on doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Jaimie smiled at him and Jeremy had to force himself to look back at the road. If kissing Kevin was a bad idea, kissing Jaimie was a catastrophic one. He loved Kevin as a friend and he was attracted to him; he was _in love_ with Jaimie. But Jaimie was still hung up on Taylor and Jeremy would get his heart broken if he wasn’t careful.

This road trip was going to test his self-control like never before.

* * *

That evening, Jeremy texted Kevin a picture of Jaimie and himself eating ice cream.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** finally on the road :)  
  
**Kevin:** Cool. Have fun!  
  
**Jeremy:** we will  
  
are you back at edgar allan yet?  
  


Kevin had told him he was going to spend most of the week in Baltimore and Jeremy knew he would miss Jean.

Kevin’s reply was a picture of himself and Jean in the locker room at Evermore: Kevin in his Court uniform, Jean in Raven black, shoulders touching.

**Jeremy:** awesome  
  
is jean coming with you to la next week?  
  
**Kevin:** Yes. They want a few pictures of the Perfect Court for Exy mag.  
  
**Jeremy:** that’s great, so you’ll get to spend some time together  
  
**Kevin:** Yeah, it’ll be good to have him there.  
  


“Jean Moreau will be in L.A. too,” Jeremy told Jaimie after getting his attention.

Jaimie was busy stalking his ex on Twitter, against Jeremy’s advice and—probably—his own better judgment. “So?” he replied, clearly not getting the point.

“I thought we could invite him to come too. He’s Kevin’s friend.”

“So is Riko. Why are we not inviting him?”

Jeremy couldn’t tell him the truth. A small lie to one friend was better than betraying another’s trust, he figured. “He’s gonna be busy, I already asked Kevin.”

“Well, I don’t know if I want Jean to be there too. It’s supposed to be a Trojan weekend,” Jaimie told him, making it seem like he didn’t want Kevin there either. It wasn’t the first time he’d implied that, either.

Which, okay, fair: Jeremy knew how hard it was for Jeremy to be around several hearing people who couldn’t sign. Laila and Sara were picking up a little ASL, but Jeremy guessed neither Kevin nor Jean knew it.

He’d already offered to take Kevin to the beach and spend the afternoon alone with him—he was sure Kevin wouldn’t have minded—but Jaimie had shaken his head and acted like Jeremy didn’t get the point.

Maybe Jeremy didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t about ASL. Could Jaimie be jealous that Jeremy had another friend? Unlikely. Was he jealous that Jeremy was friends with _Kevin Day_ and he wasn’t? That hardly seemed to be Jaimie’s style.

Jeremy couldn’t figure it out.

“Alright. Just Kevin then. He’s an honorary Trojan.”

“Is that why you text him all the time?”

“I text him because he’s my friend. Do you want to do something together? I’ll say goodnight to him.” He didn’t want to fight with Jaimie over Kevin or Jean. Not tonight, at least. Jaimie was sad over Taylor and Jeremy was tired after a long day. He could talk to Jaimie tomorrow and see if he could understand what was really going on.

“Yeah, okay. Can we take a walk?”

“Sure. Just give a minute.”

**Jeremy:** gotta go. gonna take a walk with jaimie  
  
he wants my full attention tonight :))  
  
**Kevin:** Understandable. Who wouldn’t want that? :)  
  
**Jeremy:** now who’s the one flirting?  
  
**Kevin:** Jaimie, clearly :)  
  


And _shit_. Was it possible—?

Kevin was joking, obviously, but was it possible what Jaimie was really into him? That he was jealous of Kevin not because he was Jeremy’s friend but because Jeremy had a crush on him? It would explain a lot, including why he wasn’t happy about Kevin coming to California.

But Jaimie was in love with _Taylor_. It was over and he was angry, but he was still in love with the asshole. Wasn’t he?

Yes, he was. He was slowly getting over Taylor and he was _not_ in love with Jeremy. Jeremy was one hundred percent sure of it.

Alright, maybe ninety-five percent.

Damn, he really needed to have a talk with Jaimie. Soon. Not tonight, but soon. He needed to know and they needed to figure it out together, whatever Jaimie was feeling for Jeremy.

“talk soon,” he texted Kevin before getting up and following Jaimie outside.

* * *

On Saturday, they stopped for dinner at a diner in the Bay Area. Over burgers and beer, Jeremy tried to talk to Jaimie again about Kevin.

“Look, I’m just going to be completely honest and I’m probably going to say a bunch of stupid things, but you’re my best friend and if I can’t talk to you, who am I supposed to talk to, you know?” He took a bite of his cheeseburger. Jaimie, who was working his way through a gluten-free soya burger with egg-less mayo, gestured for him to go on. “I’m confused. I might be wrong, but from where I’m standing it looks like you don’t like Kevin. Or like you’re jealous of him? And I don’t get why. It’s not all the time. Most of the time you ask how he’s doing and you listen to me talk about him and everything is fine. But then there are times like yesterday when I get the feeling that my friendship with him annoys you. Am I wrong?”

Jaimie sighed. For a moment he seemed to be looking for a way out of the conversation, but then he replied, “You’re not wrong.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“Because sometimes it feels like you only think about him.”

“I don’t—”

“No, let me finish. You asked.”

“Sorry. Go on.” Jeremy ate a few fries while he watched Jaimie.

“I know you care about me. You’re a good friend. You’re the best. You haven’t done anything wrong, okay? I want that to be clear. It’s just that this was supposed to be our road trip, and then we were supposed to spend a few days with the girls. Just us. Just us Trojans. And now Kevin’s gonna be there and it won’t be the same.” Jaimie looked at Jeremy, then took a long sip of Coke while he signed: “I was looking forward to it, you know?”

Jeremy leaned forward. “It is one day. Not even that. One afternoon. We’ll still have a lot of time to spend together, just us.”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“Because then I’m not gonna see him again until the Day Spirit Awards in _January_. He lives on the other side of the country and we have to take advantage of every opportunity we have to see each other,” he answered honestly.

Jaimie had a forkful of salad—leave it to Jaimie to ask for a _salad_ with his burger instead of fries—and looked out of the window. Jeremy followed his gaze: it was almost dark outside but there were still plenty of people walking down the street.

“I think I am a little jealous of him,” Jaimie admitted eventually. “Don’t ask me why. I can’t explain it. I’m still trying to figure it out. He’s—He’s _Kevin Day_. And I see the way you light up when he texts you. So, yeah, I am a little jealous. I’ll try to get over it.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy signed. “And for the record, you’ve got nothing to be jealous of, okay? I’m not saying you don’t have the right to feel that way, I’m just saying—He’s Kevin Day but you’re _you_.”

Jaimie got up and circled the table to sit next to Jeremy and hug him. Jeremy looped his arms around Jaimie’s waist and put his head on his shoulder. He felt closer to Jaimie than an hour ago. They weren’t done talking about this but they’d taken some steps in the right direction.

* * *

After dinner, they walked around for a bit until they found a pub that would air the Exy game. Neither of them wanted to miss it. Apparently, a lot of people felt the same way because the pub was packed. Jeremy spent most of the night standing in front of one of the screens holding a glass of beer and resting his back against Jaimie’s chest.

A group of students from a local university insisted on buying them a round after finding out they were Trojans and had faced Kevin and Riko in the final last month. They asked them a lot of questions on how playing against the Sons of Exy had been, and Jeremy and Jaimie were happy to fanboy over the golden couple.

“Kevin’s gonna score,” Jeremy predicted at some point. The ball was still on the other side of the court but Jeremy could see Kevin getting in position and Thea Muldani looking for him.

Sure enough, a few seconds later Thea had the ball and passed it to Kevin, who caught it and aimed it at goal in one elegant move. The wall behind the German goalkeeper lit up red. It was the kind of action that required impossible precision. Jeremy could count on one hand the number of times it had been pulled off successfully.

As he watched the US national team celebrate, Jeremy was struck by a question: Why wasn’t Kevin number _one_?

“Dude, how did you know?” one of the students from USF asked him. He looked more impressed at Jeremy’s ability to predict the goal than at Kevin’s talent with a racquet.

Jeremy shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

* * *

“How _did_ you know he was gonna score?” Jaimie asked later, while they walked back to their motel.

“I know him. I could tell. He wasn’t where he usually is when the ball is on the other side of the court. It had to mean he had something in mind,” Jeremy explained. “Plus, Thea was looking for him. I don’t know how Germany missed that.”

Jaimie paused, probably to think back at the action in question. It wasn’t hard: Exy channel had replayed it about fifty times already and the sportscasters had spent the half-time break talking about it.

It would have been the only thing Exy fans talked about for the next week or two if Riko hadn’t scored an impressive number of goals by the end of the game: eight, a record for a Court game. (Four times because Kevin had given him the ball, Jeremy had noticed.)

“We’ll have to work on our passes if we want to have a chance at beating them next year,” Jaimie signed eventually.

“Yeah. And improve possession. I think the only chance we have of winning is if we manage to keep the ball away from Kevin and Riko. If they get the ball, they probably score. Even against Laila.”

Jaimie nodded along. “I’m terrified of facing them again, but I’m also so proud of Riko. He broke a record tonight, and it was only his first game with the national team.”

“Well, if there was an award for Best Executed Action, Thea and Kevin would’ve won it.”

“Eight goals, Jeremy. Against Germany.”

“Whatever, you’re biased.”

“So are you!”

Jeremy bumped his shoulder against Jaimie’s arm and they both laughed.

* * *

On Monday, while they were driving down the coast at a speed that Jeremy called leisurely and Jaimie called embarrassingly slow, Jaimie brought up Kevin’s visit again.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” he said. “And you’re right: it’s just one afternoon. I think I kind of overreacted and I’m sorry about it.”

“I should have checked with you guys before inviting him,” Jeremy admitted.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s coming and we’re all gonna have fun. You should tell him to invite Jean, too.”

Jeremy looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. We can do a barbecue in the garden if they stay for dinner,” Jaimie said.

That was a wonderful idea. Jeremy didn’t know how much time Kevin would have but he hoped they could make it work. Kevin had been training so hard. Between practices, classes, championship games, exams, more games with the Wildcats, and now the national team—He deserved a day off.

“And if Riko is suddenly free, he should come too,” Jaimie added. “You can mention I’m single. You don’t have to, but you can.”

Jeremy laughed. “I thought this was about me seeing my friend, not about you finding a new boyfriend.”

“Two birds, one stone, like they say. And if he’s too busy for a relationship, he can just fuck me, cuddle me, and go back to West Virginia. I won’t complain.”

“Oh, you won’t complain? How generous of you.” Jeremy flashed him a smile. “If Riko doesn’t come, you could always see if Jean is interested.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Not my type.”

“Too tall and beautiful?”

“Fuck you.” Jaimie punched his shoulder lightly.

“Fuck marry kill, the Perfect Court, go.”

“Marry Riko, obviously,” Jaimie said right away, then he hesitated. “Kevin and Jean can fuck or kill each other, I don’t care. If I’m married to Riko, I don’t need anything else.”

“Cheater.” Jeremy laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, what about you?”

“Easy,” Jeremy replied. “Fuck Jean, marry Kevin, kill Riko.”

* * *

That night, while Jaimie took a shower, Jeremy texted Kevin. He couldn’t wait to ask him to bring Jean and he hoped they would say yes. He was looking forward to getting to know Jean a little better now that he knew how important he was to Kevin, and he was quite sure that Kevin would be happy about having him there with him.

Kevin had been working so hard and he deserved to have a good time with some friends. It would do him good. Jeremy remembered how tired and tense he’d looked when they’d met in Seattle, but by the end of the night he was much more relaxed and his smiles came easier and more readily.

Jeremy wasn’t exactly worried about him, but he wasn’t _not_ worried either.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hey :) happy pride month  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you…? You too.  
  
**Jeremy:** only one week until we see each other again!  
  
**Kevin:** I can’t wait! I’m busy on Monday morning and all day on Tuesday, but we can hang out on Monday afternoon/night  
  
**Jeremy:** awesome!! that’s more than i was hoping for  
  


It meant there was definitely time for a barbecue, and maybe for a few rounds of drinks and some relaxed conversation after dinner. It would be great.

**Kevin:** We’ll have to lay low, though  
  
Coach will kill me if he sees pictures of me hanging out with Trojans  
  
**Jeremy:** we can stay at laila’s  
  
there’s a semi-private beach 5 minutes away  
  
we can do a bbq in the garden  
  
bring jean along  
  
we’ll have fun, i promise  
  


Kevin disappeared for a while. Jeremy guessed he was asking Jean if he wanted to come.

“What did he say?” Jaimie asked him as he came out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of shorts.

Jeremy tried very hard not to notice his abs or the perfectly sculpted muscles of his shoulders. He’d seen Jaimie wearing less than that—they were teammates and flatmates after all—but this was different because it was just the two of them in a motel room. It wasn’t a locker room, and there were no roommates watching TV on the couch.

“What?” he asked once he realized Jaimie had been waiting for a reply for several seconds. God, he hoped it was only a few _seconds_. How long had he been staring?

“You’re texting Kevin, right? Did you ask him if Jean wants to come? What did he say?”

“Yeah. I asked him. He hasn’t replied yet. He’s probably asking Jean.”

Jaimie pulled on a t-shirt—Thank God—and sat down on his bed. “And Riko?”

“He’s busy. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t technically a lie, was it? Kevin had said Riko couldn’t know about their friendship—which was very Shakespearean but _whatever_—so he had to be busy if Kevin could come, right?

It still felt like a lie.

His phone beeped and he looked at Kevin’s reply.

**Kevin:** How many people will be there?  
  


It wasn’t the enthusiastic _yes_ he’d been hoping for, but it was understandable: if Ravens were discouraged from socializing with members of rival teams, it made sense for Kevin to worry about keeping a low profile. The press followed his every move. They would have to be careful. He made a mental note to ask his friends to avoid posting on social media about meeting Kevin Day. He was sure they would understand.

**Jeremy:** you & me, jean (he’s coming right??), jaimie, laila and sara  
  
don’t worry, they’re cool  
  
you can trust them  
  
and we’ll find a quiet spot to have some 1-on-1 quality time, you and me :))  
  
**Kevin:** It sounds great. I can’t wait. And yes, Jean’s coming.  
  
It’ll be my first ever BBQ.  
  
**Jeremy:** what???  
  
for real?  
  
**Kevin:** Yes  
  
Jean’s too  
  


“Kev and Jean have never been to a barbecue,” he told Jaimie. “Can you believe it?”

Jaimie wasn’t as shocked as Jeremy was. “I hadn’t either until my freshman year. Not everyone takes barbecues as seriously as your family.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe it’s not that weird,” Jeremy allowed. “Anyway, Jean’s coming. They have a thing in the morning but then they’re free for the rest of the day.”

“Good,” Jaimie signed. He looked sincere and Jeremy was grateful for it.

**Jeremy:** we’ll pop your bbq cherry then  
  
we’ll be extra gentle :))  
  
**Kevin:** Will you stop with the double entendres?  
  
**Jeremy:** if you ask nicely  
  
**Kevin:** You’re such a flirt  
  
**Jeremy:** guilty as charged  
  
**Kevin:** :))  
  



	20. Chapter 19: Once Upon a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin and Jean fly to L.A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: abuse

_Once upon a time we had a lot to fight for  
We had a dream, we had a plan  
Sparks in the air, we spread a lot of envy  
Didn't have to care once upon a time  
_—“Sail Away” by The Rasmus

## Chapter 19: Once Upon a Time

By the end of the week, Kevin was so exhausted that Jean had to help him shower. After everyone else had left, he sat on the tiled floor and let Jean shampoo his hair and massage his sore muscles.

He hadn’t been able to sleep longer than a couple of hours a night since the game against Germany—since almost outshining Riko—and his performance on the court was suffering. The Master had beaten him for embarrassing him in front of coach Anderson with a poor performance during practice.

Riko had punished him the very night of the game. “Who are you?” he’d asked over and over again, knife hovering over Kevin’s tattooed cheek, over his eyes, touching the delicate skin of his left hand so lightly as to barely leave a trace. He’d tortured him for hours, until Kevin had repeated “Number two” so many times that his voice was raspy. After Riko had left, Kevin had looked at the hair-thin cuts on his hand—his _racquet_ hand—and found it hard to breathe.

He’d fallen back in line. He’d started paying more attention to being less than Riko. His game had suffered, but it didn’t matter. It was what he was raised to do. His role in life. He spent his days carefully calculating every single move so he wouldn’t cross Riko again, and his nights trying to remember why he was doing this. More than once, the only thought that gave him comfort was seeing Jeremy again soon.

On Saturday, Jean helped him to bed after a quick dinner. Jean carefully arranged the blankets around him, kissed him tenderly, and then limped to his room. He’d sprained his ankle the previous week when Riko had pushed him down the stairs—_for_ _fun_—and hadn’t been allowed to take time off the court to heal. The beatings he’d taken this week because of Kevin certainly hadn’t helped.

Kevin closed his eyes. Riko’s absence should have made it easier to fall asleep, but Kevin wasn’t used to being alone. It put him on edge. He worried his lip between his teeth.

Maybe the problem wasn’t Riko’s absence, he thought suddenly. Maybe it was Riko’s presence a few rooms over.

Kevin looked at his phone to check the time and noticed he had new messages from Jeremy. There was a picture of Jeremy sitting cross-legged on the floor cuddling Hector followed by the message: “finally reunited :)”

Kevin felt some of the tightness in his chest melt away.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** He’s there? That’s great, I’ll finally get to meet him.  
  
**Jeremy:** yes, laila was cat-sitting for the summer  
  
he only ignored me for a full day. i call it a win  
  
**Kevin:** You got lucky.  
  


He didn’t know why or how, but it helped to know that a few thousand miles away Jeremy was playing with his cat and thinking about him. Riko and the Master could hurt him, but Jeremy was out there and he _cared_.

**Jeremy:** totally  
  
so when do you get here?  
  
**Kevin:** Monday morning, but I’ll be busy for a few hours  
  
I should be done by 3 or 4 PM  
  


He planned on asking Riko if he could go take a few pictures around the city after their photoshoot. He knew Riko and he was almost positive he would say yes. Riko always said yes to the first thing Kevin asked for after Riko had tortured him: it was his way of reminding Kevin that things could be good too. He was always walking that fine line between forcing Kevin to do what he wanted and making sure that Kevin didn’t simply give up. Riko needed Kevin, and Kevin had learned how to use that to his advantage.

He knew it would still be a risk, but it was worth it. It was worth everything.

**Jeremy:** i can come and pick you up  
  
**Kevin:** Don’t worry. We’ll take a cab  
**Jeremy:** i’ll text you the address later  
  
**Kevin:** Great  
  


Kevin looked at the picture again.

Only two days—Ravens’ time—before they flew to Los Angeles. He could do it.

* * *

On the flight to LAX, Kevin, sitting between Riko and Jean, managed to get some sleep. Jean woke him up when they landed. A black car was waiting for them to shuffle them downtown to their photoshoot, and then to the opposite side of the city to have lunch and meet with a smart-dressed journalist from a sports magazine who managed to butcher both French and Japanese as he greeted them. Riko looked annoyed but smiled through it; Jean seemed amused but kept his mouth shut.

Riko and Kevin did most of the talking, as usual. Jean drank his coffee and only spoke when addressed directly. Kevin carefully calculated the implications of every single thing he did and said, afraid of displeasing Riko and missing his chance of seeing Jeremy later.

Luckily, after one more quick interview with a local blogger whose father knew someone the Moriyamas worked with, they were done for the day. Riko announced he was going to the hotel to rest and gave them permission to go out.

In the cab to Laila Dermott’s house, after spending the whole day wired tight, Kevin finally felt like he could breathe. He texted Jeremy:

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Kevin:** Finally done here. On our way.  
  
**Jeremy:** awesome!! :)  
  


The cab took them away from the busy city center and Kevin spent the last twenty minutes of the ride looking out the window at the ocean. The car stopped in front of a nice two-story house painted blush pink, with a well-tended garden and access to the beach. It was so different from the world he and Jean came from that it almost didn’t seem real. Like a candy house straight out of a fairytale.

Jeremy must have been keeping watch by the window because he came out to greet them when they were still getting out of the cab. In blue shorts, a white tank top with “FREE HUGS” printed on the front in rainbow letters, and yellow Converse sneakers, he fit right into the fantasy world Kevin and Jean had just entered.

Somewhere between Wonderland and Neverland.

Kevin and Jean—with their black clothes covering bruises and cuts, with their nightmares and their fears—they didn’t have a place here. The sharp feeling of not belonging hit Kevin for a moment, but then Jeremy was wrapping him into a hug, pulling him into his world, and some of the tension melted away from Kevin’s body.

“Welcome to L.A. How are you?”

Kevin hugged him back. It was getting easier. It almost felt natural.

“I’m good. A bit tired,” Kevin admitted. “You?”

“All good.”

Jeremy hugged him for a few seconds longer, arms holding him tight, right thumb rubbing small circles into Kevin’s back. When he stepped back, his smile was brighter than the sun above them.

“Hi, Jean,” he said easily before pulling Jean into a hug too.

“Oh.” Jean sounded startled but didn’t resist Jeremy. Kevin wondered if he didn’t mind the hug or if he was just too surprised to react.

“I told you he’s a hugger,” Kevin said.

Jeremy let go of Jean after only a couple of seconds. Apparently, he reserved longer hugs for people he knew better.

“I’m glad you could join us,” Jeremy said, all dimples and bright eyes. Kevin had to stop staring or there was no way he could stop himself from kissing Jeremy.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Jean replied.

“Of course.” Jeremy led them towards the front door. “We were about to have ice cream sundaes, so you got here just in time.” He was about to add something else, but then he looked at Jean’s legs, frowning. “You alright?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re limping.”

“I am okay. Just a sprain.”

Jean didn’t take the arm Jeremy offered for support, so Jeremy put his hand on the small of Kevin’s back instead and ushered them inside. It was blissfully cold inside the house.

“Let me know if you need ice for your leg, or anything else,” Jeremy said.

He led them down a short hallway to a bright living room with Persian carpets, plush decorative pillows, white curtains, and enough candles to last for a year without electricity. His teammates were spread out on two couches: the girls in pink and purple tops and jeans short shorts, the guy in a Trojan red t-shirt and yellow swim trunks.

Jeremy made the (quite frankly unnecessary) introductions. “Sara, Laila, and Jaimie,” he said, pointing at the girl with long legs and red lipstick, the girl with pastel pink hair and a tattoo on her collarbone, and the guy with short dark hair and muscular arms. “Meet Jean and—well, this guy doesn’t really need an introduction, does he?—lacrosse legend Kevin Day.”

Jeremy smirked and winked at Kevin, who frowned at him.

“I hate you,” Kevin said affectionately at the same time as Jean chuckled and said, “I like you already, Knox.”

Leave it to Jeremy to make _Jean_ fucking _chuckle_ within five minutes of meeting him. The guy had talent.

“Nice to meet you guys. We’re happy you could join us,” Laila said.

“We’re gonna show you how we party here on the West Coast,” Sara added. She looked at Jaimie next. “Is this the right sign for ‘party’?”

So taken with Jeremy’s smiles and jokes, Kevin hadn’t even noticed that his friend had been using sign language ever since coming into the room. The girls were too, but they were clearly much less fluent than he was.

Jaimie had just finished correcting Sara’s signing when Jeremy looked at Kevin and Jean and said, “Jaimie’s Deaf.”

“Please face me when you talk and speak normally,” Jaimie instructed. “And it really helps if you take turns when talking. And by ‘it helps’ I mean I can’t follow the conversation otherwise.”

“I’ll interpret when necessary,” Jeremy added.

Kevin nodded. “Cool.”

Jeremy turned back to his teammates. “Weren’t we talking about sundaes before these guys got here?”

“Oh yes,” Sara said right away. “All chocolate with a ton of whipped cream for me.”

Laila, sitting with her legs in Sara’s lap, was next: “Chocolate, vanilla, and peanut butter, with sprinkles on top. Thank you, Jere, you’re the best.”

“Hey, not fair,” Jeremy said.

“You’re the captain, you need to make sure your team’s needs are met.”

“I’m the captain. You should be bringing _me_ ice cream.”

Laila shrugged and smiled. “Well, that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

Jeremy laughed. “Alright, alright. But don’t get used to it.” He looked at Jaimie with a soft smile on his lips. “I know what you like.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“What about you?” Jeremy asked Jean.

Kevin didn’t think anyone had asked Jean how he wanted his ice cream sundae in at least seven years—probably longer. Kevin too, for that matter. Today was going to be—_interesting_.

“Chocolate sounds good,” Jean said, never one to make a problem where there wasn’t one.

“You’re coming with me, I need help,” Jeremy told Kevin, gently taking his arm and guiding him to the kitchen.

A lot of light wood, glass, and potted plants, most of them decorative. Clean but messy: envelopes and receipts in a pile next to the kettle, several boxes of cereal abandoned on the counter, a recipe book left open in the middle of the kitchen island. It looked warm and lived-in in a way that reminded Kevin of his old house in Ireland, of watching his mother cook dinner, of doing homework at the kitchen table.

He forcefully swallowed down the memories before they could overwhelm him.

“You seem to know sign language very well,” he said as Jeremy took six red bowls out of a cabinet and lined them up on the counter.

“My sister Ying Yue’s Deaf. The whole family learned ASL before we adopted her,” Jeremy explained.

Kevin leaned against the island and watched Jeremy reach into the freezer and take out several ice cream containers. He tried to focus on Jeremy’s well-toned muscles instead of the memories his words had awakened. He didn’t want to think about _that_. Not today, maybe not ever.

But it was almost impossible not to make the comparison: Jeremy’s sister had gotten a family who’d invested time and energy in learning how to communicate with her, while Kevin had spent the first few months after his mother’s death deeply isolated and learning a new language on his own since the Master and Riko had refused to speak English to him.

“That’s incredible,” he said and he meant it.

Jeremy had found an ice cream scoop in a drawer and was filling bowls with generous portions of ice cream. “Says the guy who speaks perfect French. And Japanese, too, right?”

“Yes, right,” Kevin confirmed.

He should have changed the subject, brought it back to safer topics, but—But he wanted Jeremy to know. He could never tell him the whole truth, he couldn’t even tell him half of it, but he could share little parts of himself, couldn’t he? Jeremy had proven he could be trusted and Kevin needed someone—someone _out there_ in the world, outside of the Nest—to see him, to know him, the real him.

He tapped his fingers lightly on the marble countertop. Jeremy was making a mess: pink, brown, and green drops of melted ice cream stained the white surface. It looked weirdly nice.

“But see,” Kevin said before losing his nerve. “I had to learn Japanese because coach Moriyama and Riko would speak it all the time. They could speak English, of course, but they wouldn’t. They said I had to learn. So I think it’s really special that you learned a new language for her.”

Jeremy looked up at him, his kind brown eyes looking almost gold in the afternoon light. “Kinda shitty of them to force you to learn Japanese that way. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was effective,” Kevin said with a small shrug. Suddenly, he felt like he had to defend them.

“You were, what, seven?”

Kevin nodded stiffly. Jeremy was still looking at him.

“My three younger sisters were adopted. There are much gentler ways of welcoming someone to your family than unnecessarily forcing them to learn a new language.”

“It made me better. That’s what matters,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just think it’s cool that you know ASL, that’s all.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” Jeremy’s voice was softer. He was backing down, Kevin realized. He wasn’t going to force Kevin to talk about it if he didn’t want to. “Well, you learned French for Jean. That’s sweet.”

“That was different. He could speak English very well already. He taught me so we could have private conversations. There’s a lot of us living there so there’s not a lot of privacy.”

“Yeah, I know what dorms are like. Jaimie and I use ASL sometimes.”

It wasn’t the same thing. It was safe to say that nobody was going to torture or hurt Jeremy if they overheard his conversations with his friend. Very different situation. Much lower stakes in Jeremy’s case.

But.

It was a connection. It was one more thing they shared. It was one more thing Jeremy understood. Maybe non completely, but at least a little.

“Do you ever use it on the court?” Kevin asked. He and Riko spoke Japanese all the time, talking strategy and plays right in front of the other team’s backliners and goalie. He and Jean had used French a few times, too, but they had to be careful not to be overheard by their teammates.

Jeremy smiled and went back to scooping ice cream into bowls. “Sometimes, yeah. Almost nobody else on the team knows it well enough, but when he and I are playing we use it to communicate without the other team knowing what we’re saying. It’s also great for having a conversation from the opposite sides of the court.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Which flavors?” Jeremy asked, pointing at an empty bowl that was apparently meant for Kevin.

“Vanilla and pistachio.”

“Can you get the whipped cream from the fridge? There should be some fruit salad somewhere in there, too.” Jeremy filled Kevin’s bowl with equal parts vanilla and pistachio ice cream, then moved on to his own. “Oh, I forgot to ask. How was your interview?”

Kevin opened the fridge, which was well-stocked and seemed to offer plenty of healthy options. Apparently, the Trojans weren’t living off ice cream and fast food. He found the items Jeremy had asked for and placed them on the counter. “Good. Same as usual. I’ve pretty much been answering the same ten questions over and over for years now.”

“Not very creative, are they?”

“Not at all.”

Jeremy opened a few cabinets, then turned to the door. “Lay Lay? Where do you keep the sprinkles?”

“Top left, next to the microwave,” a voice—Laila’s apparently—replied from the other room.

Kevin wondered if Jean was doing okay. He was, right? He’d heard some laughter coming from the living room and that had to be a good sign. Jean could handle himself, and he was with Jeremy’s friends. He was fine. He was safe for once.

“How do you like yours?” Jeremy asked him. He was adding whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles in various combinations to their friends’ bowls.

“Fruit and a little chocolate sauce,” Kevin said, noticing how Jeremy had _drowned_ Jean’s sundae in chocolate sauce. Jean was going to love it. Kevin could do without the extra pound of sugar.

He opened the fruit salad container, took one of the large spoons Jeremy had scattered on the counter and added some fruit to his own sundae. “The girls don’t want any, right?”

“No,” Jeremy confirmed. “Jaimie does and—sure, put some on mine, too.” He turned to the door again. “Do we have cookies?”

The same voice from before replied: “Same place as the sprinkles. How did you not see them? You’re such a _guy_.”

“Found them,” Jeremy confirmed a few moments later, still talking to Laila judging by the volume of his voice.

“Can you crumble some on top of mine?” Laila again.

“I can’t hear you!” Jeremy said even as he started doing exactly as she’d asked. He then added a couple of cookies to his own sundae and lowered his voice to talk to Kevin. He had a nice voice, warm and smooth. “Sara dragged us to the court earlier, I need carbs.”

“There’s a court around here?”

Jeremy nodded. “And Laila coaches their pewee team during the summer so she has keys.”

Wait, there was a court? And they had keys? And Jeremy had his new racquet, right? Kevin _looked_ at his friend, the question clear on his face.

“Are you serious right now?” Jeremy asked.

“I never joke about Exy. Yes or no?”

“Fuck yes I wanna go to the court with you.”

Kevin allowed himself to smile. “Think they’ll join us?”

“You’re Kevin Day. What kind of question is that? Ice cream first, then Exy?”

“Sounds good,” Kevin said. He ate a cookie, then added two to Jean’s bowl, watching Jeremy do the same with Jaimie’s.

Jeremy was already making plans. “Two strikers, two backliners, a goalie and a dealer. We’ll think of something. Jaimie’s pretty versatile. Maybe he can be our second goalie, we can make do without dealers.”

“Perfect.”

“That’s if Jean is playing?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Jeremy looked up at him. “His sprain?”

_Right._

Kevin was tempted to say it was nothing—because it _was_ nothing, Jean had played while suffering much worse injuries—but then realized they were not at Evermore. The Master wasn’t here. Nobody would _force_ Jean to play. For the first time in years playing Exy was Jean’s choice and Kevin wasn’t going to take that away from him.

He had a feeling Jean would want to play but he was going to _ask_ him instead of _telling_ him.

Suddenly, he realized that he, too, was _choosing_ to play. He had asked Jeremy to play. It had been his decision. No one else’s.

“We’ll ask him,” he said, enjoying the taste of freedom on his lips.

“Can I bring my new racquet and show you the progress I’ve made?” Jeremy asked, bouncing on feet with nervous energy and excitement.

“Why do you think I asked you to come to the court with me?”

Jeremy got closer and slung an arm around Kevin’s waist for a half-hug, his other hand still holding the box of cookies. “You’re the best!”

“Second best, remember?” Kevin pointed at his tattoo.

“To me, you’re the best,” Jeremy said. He rubbed Kevin’s back for a moment before letting him go. “Shall we?” he asked, getting six spoons from a drawer.

Kevin nodded automatically, Jeremy’s words still swirling around his head, wreaking havoc on the orders he’d been given, on the future the Master had planned for him, on the life he was supposed to have. The life he was supposed to want.

But what—What if he wanted more? What if he could have more?

A shiver ran down his spine.

These were dangerous thoughts, easy to have in sunny Los Angeles when he could still feel the warmth of Jeremy’s hand on his back, but potentially lethal once he’d be back in the Nest. He had to be careful. He couldn’t let himself get drunk on freedom and possibilities.

Dreams got you killed at Evermore.


	21. Chapter 20: Hold the Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin, Jean, Jeremy, Laila, Sara, and Jaimie spend the afternoon together. Kevin finally meets Hector.

_Some things we don't talk about  
Rather do without  
And just hold the smile  
_—“Never Say Never” by The Fray

## Chapter 20: Hold the Smile

When Jeremy and Kevin came back into the living room, Jean was sitting in between the girls and was speaking with Laila. In French, Jeremy realized a moment later. Meanwhile, Sara and Jaimie were busy throwing an Exy ball back and forth between them.

Laila gave Jeremy a kiss on the cheek in exchange for her sundae.

“She’s got you whipped,” Sara remarked after taking a look at the crumbled cookies on top of Laila’s ice cream.

Jeremy shrugged and didn’t deny it. He handed Jaimie his bowl.

“I can’t understand him when he talks,” Jaimie signed. He being Jean.

“He’s got an accent,” Jeremy signed. He hadn’t even thought about it. He usually just got distracted by how sexy it sounded. He hadn’t realized it made lip-reading impossible for Jaimie. _Shit_. This was his fault. “I’ll interpret,” he offered, taking a seat next to Jaimie.

“Thank you.” Jaimie smiled mischievously. “You were right: he _is_ cute. Almost makes up for Riko not being here.”

Jean was laughing at something Kevin had said. Jeremy was really regretting taking Spanish in high school. “He’s cuter than Riko,” he signed. He dug into his ice cream as Kevin took the empty seat to his right.

Kevin was finally starting to look more relaxed; it probably took him some time to take off the armor he had to wear in front of journalists to protect himself. Jeremy sometimes wondered how much of himself he would have to hide if he were in Kevin’s position and he never liked the answer. He hoped Kevin could let go of some anxiety and enjoy the next few hours.

“Have you seen Hector?” he asked Jaimie, this time speaking as well as signing so that everyone could follow.

“He was sleeping on your pillow last time I saw him.”

“Of course he was. I missed him, but I didn’t miss waking up with cat hair in my mouth.”

Sara laughed. “It’s his way of saying he missed you too.”

Jeremy turned to Kevin. “I’ll go get him later,” he promised, left hand moving to interpret for Jaimie.

Kevin had a small smile on his lips. Yeah, he looked more relaxed. Still tired though. Playing for three teams and indulging the press on top of it had to be exhausting.

“That’s the only reason I’m here: to meet him,” Kevin said.

“Oh, fuck off.” Jeremy laughed.

Sara, in the meantime, was jokingly asking Jean and Laila, “Are you flirting with my girlfriend in French? Babe, is he flirting with you?”

“Of course he is,” Laila said right away, making a face at Sara and then smiling conspiratorially at Jean.

“I promise I am not,” Jean said, almost at the same time.

“I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sara said with a smile.

Jean looked at ease, Jeremy noticed. He’d been worried that Jean wouldn’t fit in: he only knew Kevin, after all. But he seemed comfortable talking with the girls. Laila was even letting him try her sundae.

It was a bit weird having Kevin—and Jean—here with his friends. But it was a good kind of weird. It was working. Even Jaimie, who’d been skeptical about it, seemed to be enjoying himself.

“I was actually telling him about my major,” Laila told her girlfriend.

“Nerd,” Jeremy and Jaimie said at the same time.

Laila rolled her eyes. “Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.

“Laila and Jaimie are majoring in Biochemistry. They are masochistic geniuses,” Jeremy explained to Kevin and Jean. He’d barely passed his science classes in high school, so he still couldn’t believe someone would choose of their own free will to study something like that. “Sara is studying Sports Medicine. I picked Philosophy. Because the Humanities are cool!”

“STEM is cooler,” Jaimie said.

Jeremy ignored him and looked at Jean instead. “What are you studying?”

“History like Kevin.”

“So the rumor I heard that all Ravens take Sports Management because it’s easy and allows you to focus on Exy alone isn’t true?” Jaimie asked, curious. There were a lot of rumors going around about the Ravens and at least half of them had to be false.

Kevin and Jean shared a glance, then Kevin said, “Most Ravens major in Sports Management. It doesn’t really matter what we study because we’ll all play professionally after college. I really wanted to study History though, so I talked to Coach about it and we found a way to make my classes work around my Exy practices.”

“Did you get Jean into it?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Jeremy smiled. “So I’m not your first convert.”

“It was easy with you,” Kevin said. “All I had to do was talk about it. I wasn’t even trying.”

Jaimie flicked Jeremy’s thigh. “Not fair. I’ve been trying to get you into Biology for two years now—and he doesn’t even have to try?”

“History’s cool,” Kevin said.

“Yeah, and Bio sucks,” Jeremy added.

“Why?” Jean asked. “I do not disagree—”

“Hey!” Laila yelled.

Jean ignored her and went on: “—I simply wonder if there is a reason.”

Jeremy sucked on a spoonful of ice cream. “I don’t like memorizing stuff,” he said a few seconds later. “I like concepts, not lists of Latin names. Biology is so cold. Objective. It’s not alive, it doesn’t spark discussions.”

Jean nodded along.

Just as Jeremy had expected, Jaimie did _not_.

“That’s bullshit,” his best friend said. “The scientific community is constantly debating everything. Science keeps changing and evolving, and—”

“I know, I know. I still hate Bio.”

“It’s about the frog,” Laila told Jean.

“It’s not just about the frog,” Jeremy countered.

Laila ignored him and kept talking to Jean. “He had a fight with his high school teacher about dissecting frogs and so he decided he hated Bio.”

“It wasn’t a fight. I objected to it on ethical grounds,” Jeremy corrected.

“Did you win?” Kevin asked him.

“No. And I was so upset I asked my parents to homeschool me. They talked me out of it by saying I wouldn’t be able to play Exy.”

It had been a whole thing. Cass still teased him about it sometimes, even though she’d hated Biology just as much as he had.

“Yeah, that’s a dealbreaker,” Kevin agreed. “Plus, homeschooling would have been hard on you. You like being around people.”

“That’s true. Was it lonely for you?”

Jeremy looked at Kevin. A shadow passed over his face, lighting-quick.

“Riko and Jean were there, and I spent most of my time with the Ravens anyway,” Kevin said. Jeremy wondered if his answer would have been different if it had been just the two of them.

“I would’ve gladly skipped high school,” Laila said. “The kids at my school were assholes.”

“They couldn’t handle her level of awesome,” Sara said.

Laila smiled at her, then looked at Jean to explain. “I was one of three out gay kids.”

She said it breezily enough, but Jeremy knew her too well not to notice the sudden tension in her shoulders, the slight change in her voice. He set his empty bowl down, got up, perched himself on the armrest, and wrapped her in his arms.

“I’m okay,” she whispered a few moments later, just for him. “You’re more cuddly than usual,” she added a moment later, this time loud enough for Jean and Sara—maybe even Kevin—to hear.

“It’s the t-shirt.” Jeremy kissed the top of her head before letting her go.

“I want a hug too,” Sara said.

She stood up and came to him, and he played with her hair with one hand while holding her tight with the other.

“Who else wants a hug?” Jeremy asked after Sara was back on the couch, holding Laila’s hand behind Jean’s shoulders.

Jeremy looked at Jean with a smile and open arms.

“I am okay,” Jean said. Judging by his skeptical expression, you would have thought Jeremy had asked him if he wanted a unicorn.

“Kev?” Jeremy asked, spinning on his heels to face the other striker and grinning at him.

Unlike Jean, Kevin hesitated. But then he also turned him down with a flat, “I’m still eating my sundae.”

Maybe later, Jeremy decided. Once they were alone.

“You guys are no fun,” he said. He looked at Jaimie. With him, he didn’t have to ask. “You don’t get a say,” he told him before sitting on his lap and hugging him.

Jaimie’s arms went around his waist and Jeremy felt a small kiss on his naked shoulder. He ran his fingers through Jaimie’s hair as Jaimie rubbed his back in soothing circles. Hugging Jaimie was like coming home. He closed his eyes and tuned out the conversation Sara and Kevin were having.

They were talking about Exy when Jeremy focused back on them. He disentangled himself from Jaimie’s arms and sat back down between him and Kevin.

“Oh, Laila, tell Kevin what you said about my heavy racquet,” he said. He’d told them he’d been practicing and even showed them what he could do. He had only omitted the part about it being Kevin’s idea and Kevin helping him with it.

She huffed. “It makes you a force to be reckoned with.” Before he could say anything, she raised a finger. “Disclaimer: I was drunk when I said that.”

“Tipsy. And it still counts. I’m amazing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kevin said.

“The best striker in the world. Yeah, no pressure.”

“Second best,” Kevin whispered, almost to himself, but Jeremy was close enough to hear it.

He didn’t have time to reply, though, because Jaimie was already encouraging him with a proud, “You’ll be great,” and Sara was complaining, “Don’t encourage him.” She threw a pillow at Jaimie’s head. He caught it easily and threw it back at her. Laila intercepted it.

“Try again, Wright,” Sara said with a smile. “My girlfriend’s a goalie.”

“About that,” Jeremy said. “Kevin and I were thinking about going to the court in a bit? Maybe play a little scrimmage if you guys are up for it?”

Just like he’d predicted, everyone enthusiastically agreed. Even Jean, who assured them he was okay to play when Jeremy asked him about his sprain. Jeremy flashed a smile at Kevin.

“I have to ask,” Kevin said to Jaimie. “How do you play so well when you can’t rely on hearing the ball and everything else going on around you?”

It was a question Jaimie got asked a lot. Usually, it came with a side of disbelief and skepticism that made it look like Jaimie had to prove that he could, in fact, play. Kevin, instead, was _curious_. Interested. Maybe even looking for a way to apply Jaimie’s workarounds to make his own playing style better.

“I’m used to it. I learned how to play this way so to me the idea of hearing what other players say, for example, is crazy. I don’t know how you guys can focus on the game,” Jaimie said. “I get what you mean, though. I wear hearing aids when I’m playing. It took some getting used to, but my high school coach wouldn’t let me play otherwise. I still rely on my other senses a lot more, though, because hearing aids are not like reading glasses. The sound is still distorted and I can rarely tell where it’s coming from. So I know that the ball is bouncing, that the ball is moving, you know? But I can’t quite tell _where_ it is. But I don’t need to because I already know. I keep track of how the other players are moving, for example. I read their body language and I’m much better at doing it than most hearing players. I have to be, not just when playing Exy but in general.”

“Is it something you learn?” Kevin asked.

“Careful, he’s trying to get you to spill our secrets,” Laila joked.

Jaimie smiled. “You can learn, but not fast and not easily.”

“Our freshman year—Sara, you weren’t there but you probably heard about it—Coach R. made us all wear earplugs during a practice game,” Jeremy said. “It was a total disaster. He had to stop the game after ten minutes before someone got killed.”

“It was so much fun,” Jaimie said.

“It was terrifying,” Jeremy corrected.

“Has it changed the way you play as a team?” Kevin asked.

They all thought about it. Every player contributed to shaping the way they played as a team and it was often hard to tell exactly how.

Sara was the first who attempted to answer. “When I started playing with the Trojans last year, the first thing I noticed was how much they were all looking at each other and communicating non-verbally. It was a big change from what I was used to. I don’t know if we learned it from Jaimie or not, though.”

“Some of it, probably?” Laila mused.

“Yeah, I think we do communicate a lot more than other teams,” Jeremy agreed. “And we rarely call each other. We have other ways of communicating. So we don’t give away much to our opponents.”

Jean nodded. “That is true. The hardest part of marking you in the final was that I had no idea where the hell you were going to go.”

Jeremy laughed. “You found me often enough.”

“Sleepy or bored?” Laila asked Jaimie, seeing him yawn.

“Sleepy.”

“Who kept you up all night?” Sara asked.

“Hector,” Jaimie said. “He’s so fucking possessive of Jeremy, you have no idea. I was just sleeping next to him, it’s not like we were spooning or anything.” He turned to look at Jeremy. “Good luck when you get a boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Last night, Hector had slept curled up against Jeremy’s side, in between him and Jaimie. Jaimie kept insisting that the cat had tried to push him off the bed but seeing as Hector was an eight-pound fluffball and Jaimie a 6’1” 190-pound athlete, Jeremy doubted it was true.

“He’s just not used to sharing the bed with someone else,” he said.

“Oh, you’re taking his side now?” Jaimie accused him, at least seventy percent jokingly.

“Such a drama queen, Jaimie,” Sara teased.

“Shut up.”

“So much so that I learned how to sign ‘drama queen.’ Imagine that,” she went on, clearly amused.

“Whatever.”

* * *

The Trojans laughed at the exchange between Jaimie and Sara. It was weird, Kevin thought. It was—different, very different than what he was used to. The Trojans were constantly joking and teasing each other but there was no meanness in their words. They were having fun, not hurting each other’s feelings. There was no pressure to keep up a perfect appearance, there was no need to be the best.

He shared a look with Jean: he was thinking the same thing.

How could they be so _soft_ with each other when they played on the same team? They all played different positions so they weren’t competing against each other, but Kevin had a feeling that it would have been the same even if they’d all been strikers or backliners.

Considering how good the Trojans were, maybe it wasn’t such a bad strategy.

Ravens spent all of their time with each other. They were never alone. They learned how to move in synch and almost read each other’s thoughts. They all knew what to do when their King so much as lifted a finger.

But this was different. This wasn’t forced, this wasn’t a strategy. These were four players who genuinely enjoyed each other’s company and weren’t spending part of the break together in order to win games. They just wanted to have fun.

And yet not even Kevin and Riko worked together as well as Jeremy and Jaimie. Almost, but not quite.

It was almost like everything the Ravens were forced to do—going everywhere in pairs or groups, spending every minute of their days together, sharing punishments and rewards—was a way of turning them into the cohesive unit that the Trojans naturally were. Like—_Did he dare go there?_—like the Master had seen the necessity of getting there to win but hadn’t quite taken the time to figure out how it was done; he’d created a system of terror and torture instead.

Two completely different styles, almost the same result.

The Perfect Game could probably only be played by a team like the Trojans, not the Ravens, Kevin found himself thinking. A team with players who each had their own mind but knew how to communicate well with the others; a team with players who were willing to sacrifice their own glory for the good of the group; a team whose the captain was a leader and not a dictator.

The Ravens’ technical ability with the Trojans’ heart. That’s what the Perfect Court should be. That was how they could win the Olympics.

If only—

If only it would’ve been up to him.

Jeremy’s hand on his knee brought him back to the present. He had a concerned expression on his face.

“Wanna come to help me look for Hector? It’s about time you two meet,” Jeremy asked. It was clearly an excuse to spend some more time alone, which Kevin didn’t mind at all, especially since Jean seemed to be having fun with the Trojans.

“Sure,” he said.

He followed Jeremy upstairs to what was probably a spare bedroom. He recognized a few of Jeremy’s clothes scattered around the room, mostly t-shirts he’d seen him wear in photographs.

Hector was lying on the bed, tail brushing lazily over one of the pillows. He looked up when they came in but didn’t move. Jeremy picked him up and talked softly to him as he came closer to Kevin.

“Hector, this is Kevin. He’s a friend. We like him and we’re not going to scratch him, mhm?”

“Is he going to take my eyes out if I touch him?” Kevin asked.

“No, go ahead. He doesn’t actually scratch people. He’ll hiss and hide somewhere if he doesn’t like it.”

Kevin petted him slowly, not really sure of what he was doing. Hector’s fur was soft and he purred quietly under Kevin’s fingers.

“Mhm, he likes you,” Jeremy said, voice silky and tender. He smiled. “Further proof that those hands are magical.”

“I thought we said you were going to stop flirting with me,” Kevin reminded him with a small smile on his lips.

“Hector’s the one purring. Here, take him.”

Kevin hadn’t held a cat in years but Hector settled easily in his arms. Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, holding him close to his chest with his right arm and petting him with his left hand. Between Jeremy’s hugs and casual touches and this, he’d gotten more physical affection in the last hour than in the past few weeks. It felt good. It also broke his heart.

He wanted this so badly.

Not for one afternoon, not for a few stolen hours. He wanted it every single day.

He hadn’t even realized what he was missing out on before meeting Jeremy. The rare moments he managed to share with Jean—Jean’s touches, Jean’s kisses, Jean’s warmth, and the way his voice sounded when he whispered in French in the dark—those had been enough for so long.

And now—

Now he wanted more. He _needed_ more.

But out of all the things he could have—Exy, fame, success—this wasn’t one of them.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked softly.

Kevin nodded, not trusting his voice right now. Jeremy was rubbing his back slowly and Kevin was aching with the kindness of it, yearning for more. The gentle touch was firing up his nerves and soothing them at the same time.

“You don’t look like you’re okay and this is not the first time today you’ve made me worry about how you’re doing,” Jeremy said after a brief pause.

Kevin had always thought he was good at concealing his emotions, but Jeremy seemed to be able to read him like an open book. Was he the only one paying attention, or did he have some special skills?

“Is it something we said?” Jeremy asked. “Something _I_ did? I know we said no flirting—” Kevin shook his head no but Jeremy went on. “—but I thought we were just joking right now. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’ll—”

“It’s not that,” Kevin said. “It’s not something you did. There’s just a lot going on in my life.”

Was it too much? Should he have said that?

Damn.

Jeremy was looking at him, studying him, perhaps thinking of how to reply.

“Crazy thought,” Jeremy said eventually. “You talk, you tell me what’s going on inside your head right now, and I listen. I won’t say anything unless you want me to. We don’t have to even mention it ever again. But sometimes it’s good just to get it all out. And I know I talk a lot, but I’m actually a good listener.”

“I can’t.”

He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t.

But he wanted to so badly.

What would Jeremy do if he told him the whole truth? If he told him part of it? Would he believe him? Would he be able to help?

No.

No, no, no. Too risky.

And even if Kevin could tell him, how could Jeremy understand? He came from a world made of kindness and warmth. Jean was the only one who could understand the darkness of Castle Evermore.

“Am I making it worse? Should I leave you alone for a little while?” Jeremy asked.

“No, stay,” Kevin managed to say. “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“No. Just stay here.”

“And shut up for a minute?”

Jeremy was smiling and Kevin tried to smile back. It probably came out more like a grimace. “Yeah,” he said.

“I can do that.”

Jeremy didn’t talk after that and Kevin found he missed his voice. He needed a few moments without the pressure of making conversation, but he wouldn’t have minded having Jeremy talk to him about—about anything. Would Jeremy talk to him if he asked him to? He didn’t know how to do that.

He hated that Jeremy was seeing him so vulnerable. Nobody was supposed to know he could be hurt. Nobody was supposed to know he wasn’t invincible.

Jeremy had offered him space, but that would have meant giving up the reassuring weight of Jeremy’s hand on his back, his thumb brushing against the fabric of his t-shirt only a few inches away from the cut of one of Riko’s knives.

_Riko_.

Riko was the best striker in the country and Kevin had the opportunity to be the second greatest. People would kill for such an opportunity. He was lucky to have it. So what if he had to make some sacrifices? It would be worth it.

Nothing worth having came easy.

(Jeremy’s affection was given freely. Jeremy didn’t make him earn it. Jeremy didn’t ask him to—)

_Nothing worth having came easy._

Things had to be earned. Victory had to be earned.

Gold at the Olympics and a professional career: that was what he wanted. He’d always wanted it. Even before his mom died. He’d always known he wanted to play Exy, always wanted to be the best. (_Second best._)

The Master was giving him an opportunity, a way to make his dreams come true.

It would be worth it in the end.

And he could do this. He could handle this life: the Nest, the Master, and Riko. He could do it. He _wanted_ to do it. They were making him better. They were helping him reach his goals.

And then, after—after retiring, fifteen years from now—maybe he could have a family. There would be time for that later. Exy was something he could only have right now.

“So he slept between you and Jaimie last night?” he said eventually, looking at Jeremy, begging him to accept the change of subject.

Thankfully, Jeremy went along with it. “Yeah. Jaimie says he almost pushed him off the bed.”

“Oh, that’s why Jaimie was upset. Can’t blame the guy. Who wouldn’t want to sleep close to you?” Kevin said, relaxing into the conversation. He was feeling better.

Jeremy smiled. “Stop flirting with me, Kevin Day.”

“I’m not. I’m just stating a fact. And you’re the one flirting, saying my name like that.”

“Like what? It’s your name.” Hector snuck out of Kevin’s arms just then and went to snuggle up against Jeremy’s stomach. “Mhm, yeah, I missed you too,” Jeremy cooed, petting him. But when he looked up at Kevin, he was serious. “You should adopt a cat.”

“Pets are not allowed at Edgar Allan,” Kevin said. Which was true. Also, not the main reason why it was a bad idea. By far. Kevin couldn’t even imagine what Riko would do to a kitten that Kevin loved. Anything and anyone Kevin loved was in danger.

It was okay for him to love Jean because Jean was in danger anyway. And it was okay to love Jeremy because it was a secret and because Jeremy lived on the other side of the country. But Kevin couldn’t afford to love anyone else.

“A therapist can write you a note if you need an Emotional Support Animal, and they have to allow you to keep one,” Jeremy was saying. “It would be really good for you. Cats are magic.”

Kevin just shook his head no.

“You’re already more relaxed after cuddling Hector for five minutes. Cuddling helps with anxiety. I’m not making it up, there’s actual science behind it but you have to ask Jaimie or Laila if you want to know the details. There’s, like, a hormone? I don’t remember the name, but it’s good for you.”

“I don’t have anxiety.”

“Whatever. Bad days then.” Jeremy was being gentle but wasn’t backing down. Probably because Kevin hadn’t given him any good reason to.

“Maybe it’s because we talked,” Kevin said.

“We didn’t. Not really. You haven’t told me what’s wrong.”

“I told you, I can’t.”

Jeremy looked at him. “I don’t want to pressure you and I’ll shut up about it now, but I’ve got to say something first: You can always talk to me. You’re my friend, I love you, and there is nothing you could say that could change that. If I come across as overbearing it’s only because I care a lot about you.”

“Thank you.” Kevin almost choked on the words. Jeremy didn’t—couldn’t—know how much his words meant, and Kevin had no way of telling him without putting him in danger and betraying Riko, but he wanted to say _something_. No, not _I love you_, because the last time he’d said that was to his mom. He wasn’t sure he could ever say that again. Maybe it would always only belong to his mom. He hadn’t even told Jean, even though he did, didn’t he? “I care about you too,” he whispered eventually.

Jeremy hugged him again and this time Kevin hugged him back almost right away.

“Shall we play some Exy now?” Jeremy asked eventually.

“Yes.”

* * *

They split up between Jaimie’s and Laila’s cars. Laila insisted that Jean had to ride with her and Sara and he didn’t seem to mind, so Jeremy climbed into Jaimie’s car with Kevin. It was a short ride, barely more than ten minutes, and the parking lot was empty, which Jeremy had counted on. He wouldn’t have brought Kevin to a place where he could be recognized. He needed to relax and take it easy for a few hours, not avoid paparazzi and sign autographs.

Laila unlocked the door and they started going through the available gear to find something that would fit Kevin and Jean.

“No funky business, we’re here to play,” Jeremy jokingly warned Laila as she and Sara disappeared into the other locker room to change.

“Yes, Captain, my Captain,” she shouted back.

Kevin had already taken his t-shirt off and Jeremy had to force himself not to stare because _damn_. This was like six years of sexual fantasies coming to life in front of him. Or, more accurately, in front of him, his best friend, and Kevin’s lover. So, yeah, better keep his eyes glued to the floor.

Even so, he couldn’t miss the bruises on Kevin’s and Jean’s bodies. It was pretty obvious they had been training and playing hard these past few weeks. He also noticed—he wasn’t _staring_, not exactly—several scars on Jean’s beautiful body. An old accident, maybe? He couldn’t remember hearing about it, but maybe Jean just didn’t talk about it.

He looked away and took off his clothes to change into his Exy gear, shrugging off questions that weren’t any of his business.

They warmed up and played for about forty minutes, a friendly game with Jeremy, Jean and Jaimie against Kevin and the girls. Jeremy had insisted the Js had to play together, but that had just been an excuse to mix them up and have each of the Ravens play with two Trojans.

Kevin showed off a little and didn't seem to mind how Sara jumped on his back to celebrate every time he scored. Jean easily picked up a few ASL signs while their little team discussed strategy, and seemed to enjoy stealing the ball away from Kevin. Whenever one of them bested the other, they grinned at each other and there was something—something behind their smiles that Jeremy couldn’t quite name.

Jeremy tried to show Kevin how he had improved since their last meeting and Kevin occasionally came to his side of the court to give him pointers, but mostly they just had fun.

Six kids who loved this sport, playing it for fun. The last time they’d been together on a court, the stakes couldn’t have been higher. Today they barely kept track of the score. They laughed together, complimented each other, and teased each other on stupid mistakes just as often.

Laila dragged Kevin into her car when it was time to go and blasted _We Are the Champions_ all the way back to her house.

They were more united than they should have been after spending barely a couple of hours together. The power of Exy. Jeremy thought about what Rhemann had said last month, about how Kayleigh Day would have liked this. He found Kevin’s eyes and they shared a smile. Kevin had probably been thinking the same thing.


	22. Chapter 21: Our Time Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and his friends cook dinner together. Riko calls Kevin.

_These are the times that we'll remember  
Breaking the city's heart together  
Finally it's our time now  
It's our time now  
_—“Our Time Now” by Plain WhiteT’s

## Chapter 21: Our Time Now

The sun was low on the horizon and it was nice outside, so they ignored the living room in favor of the garden when they came back from the court. Laila got them all cold beers, which Kevin and Jean had only had once before. Kevin did not particularly enjoy the taste, but he liked how it made him feel. Lighter, unburdened.

“I didn’t even ask if you guys drink. I just assumed,” Laila said a few minutes too late.

“Babe, they’re underage! You’re corrupting them.”

“So are you! Am I corrupting you?”

Instead of replying, Sara kissed Laila’s hand. Like that, out in the open. Just like they’d kissed on the court earlier. Nothing to hide. It had to be nice.

“We’re basically the same age as you are,” Jean said.

“Yes, except I’m 21,” Laila said.

“You’ve been 21 for two months and I remember you drinking last summer,” Jaimie interjected.

“That’s ancient history.”

Jeremy joined them outside and walked around the couch where Kevin and Jean were sitting, coming to stand behind them. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the backrest. He was so close that Kevin could have counted the freckles on his cheeks. He looked gorgeous, sun-kissed and relaxed, hair pulled back and a soft smile on his face. He had a beer in one hand and an ice pack in the other. He offered Jean the latter.

“For your ankle,” he said.

Predictably, Jean refused it. “I don’t need it.”

Also predictably, Jeremy didn’t give up. “You were limping. Do it for me? I’ll feel guilty all evening if I think you’re in pain because of me.”

“I’m not in pain and you didn’t do anything.”

“I made you run up and down the court for an hour, didn’t I?”

Not exactly the truth: it had been Kevin’s idea to play Exy. But Jeremy seemed to feel like it was his fault. Which was just ridiculous. He hadn’t been the one to push Jean down a flight of stairs and he hadn’t been the one who hadn’t allowed him time off to heal.

“It’s much easier if you say yes,” Jaimie told Jean. “He’s not gonna give up and he gets really annoying. Trust me.”

“Screw you.” Jeremy was looking at Jaimie and laughing. “You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I’m helping you out.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.”

Jaimie shrugged and smiled at him. Jeremy walked around the couch, flicking Jaimie’s neck when he passed by him. He moved a chair in front of Jean and put a pillow on it. “Put your leg up. Come on.”

The whole situation was ridiculous. Jeremy was making such a big deal of a mostly-healed sprained ankle. It was also endearing though, how much he cared. Now only about his friends, but Jean too. Jean, whom he’d met only once before.

Jean looked at Kevin.

“What am I supposed to do?” Kevin said in French.

Jean rolled his eyes and did as Jeremy instructed, earning himself a bright smile.

“Does it feel okay?” Jeremy asked after placing the ice pack on his ankle.

“Yes.” Jean hesitated, then added, “Thank you.”

Jeremy smiled again. For a moment, Kevin’s heart forgot how to beat.

“Should we start calling you Captain Florence Nightingale?” Sara joked.

The Trojans laughed.

“Idiots,” Jeremy said but he was laughing too.

Laila got up. “So if you’re done flirting with Jean—”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Jeremy said hastily. He looked at Jean. (Was he _blushing_?) “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Whatever,” Laila said. “Are you gonna help me with dinner or not?”

“Of course.”

While Jeremy and Laila started setting up the grill, Sara and Jaimie went inside to get the food.

“What can I do?” Kevin asked.

“Nothing. You’ve been running from place to place all day. Sit down and relax,” Jeremy said.

“I’m not tired.”

“Humor me.”

Kevin turned to Jean, who looked quite amused and a little bit smug. God, how Kevin had missed that look on his face. So Riko hadn’t erased it forever?

“What am I supposed to do?” Jean asked him, in French, using the same words Kevin had said to him a few minutes ago.

“You’re not funny,” Kevin said.

“Aw, you guys speak French with each other? That’s cute,” Laila commented.

“Sometimes we do,” Kevin told her, then continued his conversation with Jean in French, lowering his voice since Laila could apparently speak it very well. “This is surreal.”

“I can’t believe this is their life.”

“Me neither,” Kevin agreed.

“Isn’t it hard being friends with him?”

“Sometimes. But I don’t know how to give him up,” he admitted.

“I don’t get it. He’s a spoiled kid who thinks life is fun.” There was no heat behind Jean’s words and Kevin thought that, after today, maybe Jean actually did get it, at least a little.

“It’s like nobody told him the world isn’t a kind place,” he said. “But then we talk about something serious and he actually gets it. Some of it, anyway. The parts I can tell him.” Jean nodded and Kevin felt like he could confess one more thing to him: “I wish I could tell him more.”

“You’ve already told him too much.”

It wasn’t an accusation, it was a reminder, a warning.

“I know,” Kevin said quietly.

* * *

Jeremy was letting Laila do all the work. She was better at it anyway. At home, his dad, Justice and Ying Yue usually did the grilling, while he hung out in the kitchen with his mom snacking on carrots.

“Did it look like I was flirting with him?” he asked her in a whisper.

She smiled, clearly amused. “Which one?”

“Jean.”

“Nah. I was just teasing you. The other one instead…”

Jeremy shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I can’t help it. Whatever. He’s cool with it.”

He had considered telling her about his almost kiss with Kevin in Seattle but had eventually decided against it. Kevin wasn’t out and it wasn’t Jeremy’s secret to tell, not even to his best friend who wouldn’t have told anyone else.

“He’s more than cool with it,” Laila whispered back. “The way he looks at you, man.”

“He—He doesn’t—” Jeremy stammered.

Luckily, Jaimie joined them and saved Jeremy from having to finish that sentence. Sara was right behind him holding a bowl of potato salad and a jar of mustard.

“How’s it going?” Jaimie asked, standing behind Jeremy, hands on Jeremy's hips.

Jeremy turned around to look at him. “We’re just about ready.”

He moved out of Jaimie’s reach before his body overheated—and not because of the grill—and tried some potato salad. “Mhm, I love this.”

“I’m going to add more mustard,” Sara said.

“No, it’s good.”

“Babe?” Sara looked at Laila and fed her some potato salad.

“He’s right. It’s perfect,” Laila said. Then, when Sara scowled at her, she added, “Sorry, babe.”

“Jaimie?” Sara asked.

Jaimie tried it. “I’m with you, it needs a kick.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jeremy said when Sara opened the jar of mustard. “I’m gonna ask Kevin to be the tiebreaker.”

He leaned once again onto the backrest of the couch Kevin and Jean were sharing. “So, BBQ virgins, we’re roasting some veggies too because Jaimie is annoying about healthy stuff. What would you like? Meat, veggies, or both?”

“Both sounds good,” Kevin said.

“Yeah. Can we help?”

“You’re staying right there icing your ankle, but I’m stealing Kevin away for a minute to settle a thing.”

He straightened up and offered Kevin his hand. Kevin took it, hesitating for only a second, and Jeremy led him to the grill. A moment later, he was holding a fork a few inches away from Kevin’s lips and Kevin was giving him a weird look.

“Don’t make that face. It’s potato salad. Try it.”

Kevin opened his mouth. He chewed it slowly, looking a little like a judge from a cooking show. It was sweet that he was taking it so seriously.

“It’s good,” he said eventually.

“But it needs more mustard, doesn’t it?” Sara asked right away.

“I don’t think so?”

“Ah! Told you,” Jeremy said to Sara, smiling. “It’s got the Kevin Day seal of approval.”

Sara did not give up. “I bet Jean will agree with me,” she said, already making her way to him holding a fork. She sat down next to him. “Try this _bland_ potato salad and tell those culinary-challenged _heathens_ that it needs _more mustard_, please.”

Jean looked as confused as Kevin had a few moments ago, but took the fork and tried the food. “It could probably use a touch more mustard, yes,” he said.

“Thank you!” Sara turned to look at her girlfriend and Jeremy. “I win.”

“You win nothing,” Jeremy countered. “It’s three against three and we’ve already established that Jaimie’s opinion on food doesn’t count.”

Jaimie put tabasco sauce on strawberries, and apple slices in his pasta salad. He’d lost his cooking privileges four days into his freshman year.

Sara, still sitting next to Jean, argued back easily: “Jean’s French so his opinion counts, like, three times more than yours.”

“That’s not how it works,” Laila said.

Jaimie had gone to get the rest of the food and came back with a huge tray of cut-up veggies. It looked enough to feed the entire Trojan line.

“We’re shit-talking about your taste in food,” Jeremy informed him as he flipped a steak, then he looked at the tray. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?”

“There’s not even enough space on the grill,” Jeremy said.

“Because you’re doing it wrong. Here, let me.” Jaimie placed his hands on Jeremy’s waist and made him move away from the grill. He took the spatula and tongs away from Jeremy and started rearranging the meat to make more space for the vegetables.

Jeremy looked at Kevin, smiling. “See what I’ve got to deal with every single day?”

“My heart breaks for you.”

Jeremy laughed but stopped abrupty when he saw Kevin’s expression and body language change. Kevin took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the name on the screen. His voice was tense when he answered, in Japanese.

_Riko_.

What the hell was the real deal between them? Kevin seemed on the verge of a panic attack because of a phone call. Something must be going on.

“Everything okay?” he asked after Kevin hung up.

Kevin nodded, his movements clipped. “Riko was just checking in. I should—” He nodded in Jean’s direction.

“He’s talking to Sara, he’s fine. Why don’t you come with me?” Jeremy waited for Kevin to nod, then turned to Jaimie. “You good here? We’ll get plates and glasses.”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Jeremy led Kevin inside and waited until they were alone in the kitchen to ask him, “Everything okay?”

Kevin pressed his lips tightly together, then looked at the door as if to check that no one was coming in. “Riko doesn’t know we’re here. He can’t know,” he confessed.

“Is he… jealous?” Jeremy asked, trying to understand.

“No, it’s not jealousy.” Kevin was speaking slowly as if he was picking his words carefully. He did that sometimes when he talked about Riko. “He sees the world—He sees Exy differently. He thinks Ravens should only be friends and spend time with other Ravens.”

“He knows it’s an Exy team and not a cult, right?”

“Yes. It’s not like that,” Kevin said right away. “He just—It’s the way we were raised.”

“You were raised together but you’re different. You’re here.”

Kevin looked down. He seemed better. Calmer. “You’re worth it.”

“That’s a very nice thing to say.” Jeremy smiled at him.

He still didn’t understand but maybe he didn’t have to. It was clearly a complicated relationship and the tension between them was probably to blame for a lot of Kevin’s anxiety. But Kevin wasn’t ready to talk about it and Jeremy wasn’t going to push.

“What does Jean think?” he asked as he opened a cabinet to get glasses.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I think it’s more about you than me.”

Kevin shrugged. “He’s having fun.”

“Hey, I’m sorry that there’s tension between you and Riko. It must suck.”

“It does.” Kevin got quiet again and for a moment Jeremy thought he was going to explain but he didn’t.

“How can I help?”

“You can’t: it’s between me and him. It is what it is.”

Jeremy turned to look at him and squeezed his shoulder gently. “Wanna transfer to the Trojans? According to you, we could use better strikers.” He smiled. “We’ll take Jean, too. This way I won’t have to go against him next year.”

Kevin relaxed under his touch, or maybe at his words. “So you make all the recruiting decisions now?”

“I’m the captain.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m new, I’m still figuring it out.” Jeremy pulled Kevin into a hug. “Seriously, though. If you need to talk or unload or whatever, I’m here. You don’t have to, but—”

Jaimie interrupted him: “You guys coming? Dinner is almost ready.”

“Be there in a minute,” Jeremy signed. He ran his hands up and down Kevin’s back and hugged him tighter for a few moments before letting him go. Not completely, though, not yet. He kept his hands on Kevin’s arms and looked at him in the eye. “Good?”

Kevin nodded. “Yeah, let’s eat.”

Jeremy let him go. When Kevin walked out of the room carrying two piles of glasses, Jeremy looked at Jaimie, who was selecting cutlery with precise but tense movements.

“You know it’s never going to happen, right?” Jaimie told Jeremy as soon as they were alone.

“I was just hugging him. He’s going through some stuff.”

“Yeah, it must be hard to be Kevin Day, Son of Exy,” Jaimie signed.

_The hell?_

Not this fight again.

“What’s your problem?” Jeremy asked, a little more harshly than he meant to.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“He’s not the one hurting me right now.”

Jaimie’s expression softened at those words and he looked guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s my friend too,” Jeremy signed.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be nice.”

“Alright,” Jeremy signed even though it wasn’t. He didn’t want to be mad at Jaimie, but why did he have to act like that? He wondered if it was like that between Kevin and Riko, only without the close friendship that bonded him and Jaimie.

What was it anyway? Jealousy? Possessiveness?

Jeremy felt a hand on his arm. Jaimie had come closer and was looking at him: He was sorry, he really was. And Jeremy—Jeremy couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he was looking at him like that. Nothing had happened after all.

He rested his forehead against Jaimie’s shoulder and let Jaimie hug him.

“Good?” Jaimie said, rubbing his back.

“Yeah, all good,” Jeremy signed. “Mhm, a bit higher?”

“Your shoulder?”

“Yeah. I slept funny.”

It wasn’t painful, just a bit tight. It felt nice to have Jaimie take care of him, though. “Thank you,” he signed a minute later, taking a step back. He smiled at him to let him know that they were really okay. “We should go back outside.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”


	23. Chapter 22: You Learn to Live Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the day with the Trojans comes to an end, some secrets are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: mentions of homophobia

_It's times like these you learn to live again  
It's times like these you give and give again  
It's times like these you learn to love again  
It's times like these time and time again  
_—“Times Like These” by Foo Fighters

## Chapter 22: You Learn to Live Again

After dinner, Kevin went to the beach to take a few pictures of the ocean at sunset. He hadn’t dared take any pictures of the Trojans in case Riko decided to check his camera, but this was okay. He could even print them out and pin them to his wall. No matter what happened, he’d be able to look at them and think back to this afternoon.

When he went back to the garden, the others had gotten comfortable. There were four couches around a fire pit. Hector had claimed one for himself and Sara was sitting on the opposite one leaving a spot for her girlfriend next to her. Jeremy was lying on the couch to Hector’s left, legs dangling from the armrest and head resting on Jaimie’s thighs, looking comfortable. Jaimie’s left hand was resting on Jeremy’s chest.

Jean was sitting on the remaining couch. He didn’t even seem mad that Jeremy—or one of the girls, maybe?—had made him elevate his leg again. He looked so beautiful in the soft light. Relaxed for once. Almost—Almost happy.

If only they could have this, he and Jean. If only—

But there was no point in even thinking about it, was there? It was never going to happen. The only way either of them was getting out of Riko’s hold was in a coffin.

Kevin took a picture of Jean.

He tried to commit to memory everyone else. Jeremy smiling and Jaimie laughing; Sara listening to Jean, her hair falling around her face; Laila dropping down on the couch after turning on some lights. And Jean. Jean, who’d been so skeptical about this afternoon, looking like he belonged right there with them.

“Is this bright enough?” Laila asked Jaimie.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he said.

Kevin joined them and took a seat next to Jean. Their shoulders touched. Kevin didn’t move away; he didn’t have to for once. Inside the Nest, it would have been unthinkable to sit so close to him; here, Kevin doubted the Trojans even noticed. They all seemed to think physical contact was normal, expected.

“You boys up for a game?” Sara asked, holding up a deck of cards with a rainbow printed on the back side. “We take turns picking a card and answering the question. They’re supposed to be for Pride Month but most of them make sense no matter your sexual orientation.”

She was clearly assuming that he and Jean were straight and Kevin didn’t correct her. He trusted them, but he didn’t trust them _that_ much.

“Alright,” he said. “How do you win?”

Jeremy laughed. “Competitive much, Kev?”

“There’s no winner. It’s just… fun,” Sara said. “Plus, we’ll get to know each other better.”

“Okay.” Kevin shrugged.

“Youngest one starts, then we go clockwise?” Jaimie suggested.

They all seemed to agree, so Jeremy said, “Laila and I are the oldest, Jaimie’s 20—” He looked at Jean.

“I’m almost 20, too,” Jean said.

Sara looked at Kevin. “January 1996.”

“February,” he said before picking a card. “First crush, first kiss and first time.” He scoffed. “Seriously?”

What kind of game _was_ this?

“Pick another one if you don’t want to answer,” Jeremy offered. No big deal.

“No, it’s fine I guess. So long as it stays here.”

He wasn’t going to share Jean with them, but even if he kept his answers in the heterosexual domain, he didn’t want to see them all over Twitter tomorrow morning.

“Of course,” the Trojans said.

Jean looked at him.

And yeah, Jean was right: It _was_ a risk. After all, he didn’t know them. He knew he could trust Jeremy, and he knew Jeremy trusted them, but was it enough? Maybe they would let it slip accidentally. Maybe one of them would sell out to the highest bidding gossip magazine.

But he was feeling bold tonight. Bold and rebellious.

Maybe it was the alcohol. He’d drank a second beer with dinner and had refused a third, so he wasn’t even remotely close to drunk. But he did feel it a little. He felt more relaxed, more at ease. Looser. The walls he put up were a bit shorter; his armor a bit softer.

“First crush: Thea Muldani,” he said truthfully.

“Oh my God, yes,” Sara said right away. Both Jeremy and Jaimie were nodding their approval.

“Same, man, same,” Laila agreed.

“Any chance she swings our way? Because she’s totally welcome in our bed any time.”

Kevin laughed. “I’ll ask her,” he said before looking at his card again. “First kiss and first time. I don’t kiss and tell. Let’s just say she was a Raven.”

He didn’t like to think about it. It had been Riko’s decision, not Kevin’s. Riko had told him to kiss Lydia, to sleep with her. _Fuck_ her. Right after Riko had. She wasn’t Kevin’s type; she hadn’t been his choice.

“My turn?” Jeremy asked.

“Unless you expect Hector to play,” Jaimie told him.

Jeremy reached over and picked up a card. “First, last, best and worst coming out experiences,” he read, body suddenly tense. “Shit.”

“Pick another one,” Laila said.

“Yeah, let’s see what the next one says,” Jaimie added.

“No, it’s fine,” Jeremy said. He was playing nervously with the card. “The last time was—Oh, I don’t even remember. I tell people all the time now, I barely even notice it.”

“Yeah, it’s like, _Hi, I’m Jeremy, I play Exy and I’m bi_,” Laila said. Was she trying to break the tension? Why was Jeremy so nervous?

“I think that’s pretty much what I told the guy at the grocery store this morning,” Jeremy said, relaxing a little. “Yeah, he’s probably the last person I came out to.”

“How did it even come up?” Jean asked.

“I don’t know. It didn’t, I guess. I was just making chit-chat while he rang my items.”

“Talking about the weather is so last decade,” Sara joked.

“Yeah. Now we talk about our sexuality to perfect strangers,” Jaimie added.

“Fuck you both,” Jeremy said fondly. “At least I don’t ask strangers for advice on breakfast cereal.”

“That happened _once_. A year ago,” Jaimie said.

“Whatever.” Jeremy looked more relaxed now. His friends’ jokes seemed to have helped. He looked at the card again. “The first person I told was my sister Cece. She’d come out a year before; so, when I started asking questions, I went to her. I was still figuring it out and I needed to talk to someone who would get it. I remember going into her room one night. She was studying or reading or something and she told me to fuck off. But then I told her and she was amazing. She really helped me through it.”

His voice softened while he talked about his family, and the way his hands moved to sign was almost like a dance. Kevin wondered what it would have been like to have a family to come out to.

“And then, a couple of weeks later, I decided to tell the rest of the family,” Jeremy went on. “Well, my twin sister knew. I told her right after Cece. But I wanted my parents and my other sisters to know, too. I decided to do it on a Wednesday night. We always had family dinner on Wednesday nights. I was so nervous that day. I thought I was going to be sick. When my dad picked me up from school he could tell that something was wrong. I told him it was nothing but he didn’t believe me, so he took me out for ice cream.” He looked at Kevin and Jean to explain, “It’s kind of our thing. It started when I was eight and to him it didn’t matter that I was fifteen. We sat there eating ice cream and talked about Exy and ice hockey for a while. And then I just… told him. Because I couldn’t lie to him anymore, you know? I couldn’t wait till dinner. He hugged me, he told me he loved me, and he bought me more ice cream while I kept crying. Then that night I told my mom and sisters. They were all amazing, but coming out to my dad was just… I don’t know, it mattered more. Because, like, I knew he would be okay with it. But—” He sighed. There was something different in his voice now. Hurt? “Henry, my biological father, left when I was six and—Like, I didn’t really think my dad would leave because I’m queer but—Whatever. So, yeah, that was the best one.”

Kevin tried to imagine him: Jeremy, at fifteen, less confident than he was now, crying as he told his dad he liked boys as well as girls. And that’s when it clicked: Jeremy wasn’t strong despite coming from a loving family, he was strong _because_ of it. Having their love and support made him so confident.

“And the worst one was obviously when you came out to me and I ruined it by saying, _I know_,” Laila said.

“Yeah, that was bad. So much for my big moment of truth.”

Jeremy laughed softly, but then his mood changed again. The whole atmosphere seemed to change with it; Kevin wouldn’t have been surprised to see the sky suddenly gray and cloudy. Jeremy wore his heart on his sleeve and he had a way of pulling people up with him when he was feeling good. Or, apparently, pulling the mood down when he wasn’t.

Laila had given him an out, but apparently he wasn’t taking it.

“The worst one was when I told Henry,” he said. “He came back into my life when I was in high school. It was around the same time I came out. Our relationship was… shaky. At best. I was trying and I think he was trying too, but it was really hard. I still decided to come out to him because I didn’t want to hide that part of me. And he—” His voice cracked. “He called me all sorts of names. He said I couldn’t be his son. I told him I wasn’t, that he wasn’t my dad. I told him—” He shook his head. Whatever it was, he couldn’t say it. “We were at a restaurant. We weren’t screaming but just about. And then he left.” He paused for a moment, but his voice was still broken when he spoke again: “It was the last time I saw him.” He got up. “Sorry, I have to—”

He walked away without finishing the sentence, tears in his eyes.

Laila and Jaimie moved at the same time.

“I’ve got him,” Jaimie said.

She sat back down while he went after Jeremy. Kevin watched him pull Jeremy into a tight hug, one arm around his waist, his other hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck. Jeremy’s body was still tense, face buried in Jaimie’s shoulder. Was he crying? _Shit_.

“He just needs a moment. He’ll be okay,” Laila said, following his gaze.

“Yeah, Jaimie’s got him. Don’t worry,” Sara added.

“Tell us more about Thea.”

Kevin looked away from Jeremy and at the two girls. Their change of subject wasn’t subtle, but Kevin decided to go with it. “What do you want to know?”

“Is she as awesome as we think she is?” Sara asked.

“Or more?”

Jean looked at Kevin with a small smile on his lips. “She’s tough. She’s great.”

“She’s one of the best players in the country for a reason,” Kevin said. “She’s very dedicated.”

“Is she a good kisser?” Laila pressed on. She was leaning forward, hanging on Kevin’s words.

“Who said I ever kissed her?” Kevin said with a smirk.

“Ugh, you’re killing us, man.”

Suddenly Laila straightened up and looked away from Kevin. Kevin turned around: Jeremy was back, looking better even though his eyes were red.

“I’m okay,” he said, voice still a little rough but missing the tension from before. “I just needed a moment. I didn’t know it would hit me so hard still. But I’m all better now.” His smile was honest if a little sad. “I won’t say no to a group hug though.”

The girls got up right away and hugged him, while Jaimie, who had kept a hand on his back the whole time, moved to stand behind him and wrapped all three of them in his arms. Kevin wondered if he should join them, but it felt like a Trojan moment. He wouldn’t have known what to do anyway.

The group broke apart almost a minute later and Jeremy sat back down, pressing his shoulder against Jaimie’s.

It was Jaimie’s turn to pick a card. He casually slung his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders while he read it. “Relationship status.”

“That’s it?!” Jeremy stole the card away from him and theatrically turned it around a few times. “Not fair.”

“Sorry,” Jaimie said with a small smile. “I’m single, unfortunately.”

“Do we really need to go over all the reasons why it’s good that you and Taylor broke up? Again?” Laila asked.

“I don’t want Taylor back. I just want—someone.”

Jeremy didn’t seem to notice, but Kevin didn’t miss how Jaimie looked at Jeremy when he said that. Suddenly, the irritation in his voice from earlier, when he’d come into the kitchen to find Jeremy hugging him, made a lot of sense.

“My turn,” Laila said. “First and last kiss.”

“_So_ not fair,” Jeremy complained again.

“We were all here for the last one, so tell us about the first one,” Jaimie told Laila.

“It was… with a boy.”

The other three Trojans gasped theatrically.

“Idiots.” Laila laughed. “Eighth grade, his name was Daniel, and it was a really bad kiss. I remember thinking, _People like doing this?_ and wondering if there was something wrong with me. Turns out I was just kissing the wrong person. Because let me tell you, when I kissed his sister six months later, now that was _good_.”

“But?” Sara said.

“But not as good as kissing you, babe.”

Clearly satisfied with the answer, Sara smiled and kissed her.

Kevin looked at Jeremy again. Jaimie signed something, a concerned expression on his face, and Jeremy seemed to be reassuring him. He repeated the same word several times. Kevin hoped it meant he was okay.

He wanted to ask him but how was he supposed to do that?

It was Sara’s turn to pick a card. “Marriage: Yes or no? I mean, yes, obviously. Not right now, but hell yes.”

Laila nodded along. “Mhm, yes. A big wedding. White dress, big tiered cake, all the stupid clichés. Jeremy will be my man of honor.”

“Gladly,” Jeremy said.

“Oh, and I want a chocolate fountain,” Sara interjected.

“You future wife’s man of honor fully approves.”

She blew a kiss at him and he smiled at her, the last of the tension in his shoulders gone.

“My turn?” Jean asked. Without waiting for an answer, he picked a card. “Sex with the right person once, or sex with the wrong person every day of your life?” he read. He didn’t even think about it. “Right person once. It’s always worth choosing the right person, no matter what.”

He subtly touched the back of Kevin’s hand and Kevin felt his heart swell in his chest.

_The right person_.

Jean was calling him _the right person_, was saying that it was worth choosing him no matter what. No matter the beatings, no matter the torture, no matter the horror and the darkness.

He brushed his fingers against Jean’s.

“Another round?” Jaimie asked.

Kevin moved his hand away from Jean’s and looked at the time on his phone. They had no more than half an hour, then they had to go back to the hotel. This was nice, but Kevin wanted some more time alone with Jeremy before he left.

“We need to go in a bit; we have an early morning tomorrow,” he said. “Jeremy, do you want to take a walk on the beach?”

“Sure.”

Jaimie looked at him sourly. Yes, he definitely liked Jeremy as more than a friend. If Kevin could have, he would have told him to calm down. He wasn’t going to steal Jeremy away from him. He and Jeremy? Never going to happen.

Jeremy didn’t want just sex, and Kevin—Kevin could not give him a relationship. Wouldn’t have wanted one with him even if Riko and the Master and his career and the distance hadn’t stood between them. He and Jean might not be exclusive, but it didn’t make Jean any less of his person.

Kevin got up.

“Twenty minutes,” he told Jean in French before following Jeremy to the beach.

They didn’t go far, just enough to be close to the water and away from their friends. It was almost completely dark now; the ocean was roaring softly.

“Are you okay?” he asked Jeremy.

“I’m good. It hit me worse than I thought it would, but I’m good now.” Jeremy looked out at the gray sea and spoke quietly. “He died a few weeks after I came out to him and we never got to fix things between us. I don’t know if they could have been fixed but I think it would help if we had at least tried. Most days I’m okay with it but I don’t like to think about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said. He hesitantly put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.

Jeremy looked at him with something indecipherable in his eyes, then moved closer and leaned against Kevin’s chest. Hands on Kevin’s lower back, head on his shoulder, seeking comfort Kevin didn’t know how to could give. He awkwardly looped his arms around Jeremy’s shoulders and wondered if it was enough.

Maybe it was: Jeremy was relaxing into him. Maybe this was enough, maybe Kevin was enough.

He took a mental picture of the moment: Jeremy’s long eyelashes, the freckles on his face barely visible in the low light, a few dark curls escaping from the bun at the back of his head, his warmth and the citrusy scent of his hair. His fingers playing with the hem of Kevin’s shirt and pulling it lightly, his heartbeat against Kevin’s chest.

“I wish you could stay a bit longer,” Jeremy said after pulling back.

“Me too.”

Jeremy looked at him again. “If you ever want to talk about Riko or whatever’s going on in your life, I’m here.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I can handle complicated.”

Kevin nodded, even though he knew he could never tell him the truth.

“Hey, let’s take a picture, you and I,” Jeremy said taking his phone out of his pocket. They moved closer again, smiled for the camera, and Jeremy took a few photographs. “I’ll send them to you later,” he promised.

* * *

They said their goodbyes while waiting for the cab and Jeremy hugged him and Jean before they got in. Once they were alone, Kevin looked at Jean. Soon, too soon, reality would set in again but they still had a few precious minutes before its weight came crashing down on them.

A few minutes when they could lower their walls. When they didn’t have to be strong. _Hard_. They could be vulnerable—_soft_—just for a few more moments.

“How’s your leg?” Kevin asked in French.

“Better. Who knew rest, ice and elevation could help?” Jean replied. His words were light, he was _making a joke_. No harsh cynicism and biting sarcasm for once.

Kevin felt emboldened by it. “And how are _you_?”

“Today was good,” Jean said. “Thank you for convincing me to come. How are you feeling?”

Kevin was reminded of a time when Jean used to ask him all the time. _How are you? Are you okay? How do you feel?_ He’d stopped a few months after arriving at the Nest. Did he get tired of Kevin lying and saying he was fine, or was it too hard to hear his answer when he told the truth? Maybe both.

“I feel good. I feel—” What was the word? “—hopeful.”

“I wish we could stay.”

“It would be nice.”

Kevin let himself imagine it for a moment. What it would be like, living in the light like that. Laughter and games and hugs every day. Building a stronger, better team. It could be done, couldn’t it? He could—He could make the Trojans number one.

Number _one_.

A chill went down his spine.

He looked at Jean. There was the hint of a smile on his lips and he was so beautiful. Like this, with his guard down, he looked elegant and delicate.

But even in the dark Jean looked gorgeous. Always had. He was strong. (He had to be.) He kept Kevin up when Kevin couldn’t stand any longer. He gave Kevin hope even when he didn’t have any for himself.

His Jean. His person.

_The right person._

He touched Jean’s hand like Jean had done earlier while answering his question. The spark in his gray eyes told Kevin that Jean was thinking about that same moment.

“I feel the same,” Kevin said softly. “No matter what.”

_End of Part I "Worlds Apart"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I will start posting Part II next week. There's a lot more angst coming up. Not right away, but soon. So be warned.


	24. Chapter 23: You Choose to Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first few months of Jeremy's junior year.

# Part II: When the Sky Came Down

_Hope when the crowd screams out, it's screaming your name  
Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay_  
— “I Lived” by OneRepublic

## Chapter 23: You Choose to Stay

Jeremy was trying to study. Between Exy, classes, his girlfriend, and his extra duties as captain he hadn’t gotten much done in the first few weeks of school. He was taking three classes this semester—Ethics, Philosophy of Mind, and Theories of Law—and he had five chapters to read and a paper on Utilitarianism to write by tomorrow.

He tapped his pencil on the side of the book he had on his lap while he read a few paragraphs. He circled a couple of keywords. At least he hoped they were keywords. They looked important. The book editor had deemed them important enough to bold them, and who was Jeremy to question it really?

On the other side of the room, Hector was playing with his Exy ball. Jeremy wanted to lie down on the floor, play with him, and forget everything else.

Since Chayton had graduated, Jeremy had taken Rhemann up on his offer of having the bedroom all to himself, a perk of being the team captain. He’d considered sharing a room with Jaimie instead but eventually decided that it was for the best if they each had their own space. They spent most of their free time together on top of practices twice a day, and sharing a room would have probably been too much.

So Jeremy had his old room all to himself, and their freshman dealer Alexander Goodwin had taken Jameal’s bed in Jaimie’s bedroom. Hector had not been pleased at the change at first, but Alex had bribed his way into the cat’s affections with treats and cuddles. They were cool now. Hector had even slept at the foot of Alex’s bed a couple of times when Jeremy spent the night at Meredith’s.

Speaking of, Meredith was probably the main reason why Jeremy was so behind on his schoolwork. Drinks, making out in his car, a date, a second one, a few nights spent together. The relationship had been short but intense. Although, to be honest, Jeremy wasn’t even sure if it counted as a relationship. Maybe it had just been a two-week-long hook-up. Either way, it had been fun.

He looked back down at his book. He should have asked for an extension but it was too late now. He looked at the time. He had to leave for afternoon practice in fifteen minutes, which meant he’d have to spend the night reading. He could finish writing his paper tomorrow morning after practice; it was _mostly_ done anyway.

He texted Laila.

**Chat with “****Laila****”**  
  
**Jeremy:** hey lay-lay  
  
gotta cancel out weekly movie night :(  
  
i am drowning in schoolwork  
  
i’ll make it up to you next week  
  
**Laila:** No worries. I’m buried in homework too  
  
We can get food on our way back from practice & study together?  
  
**Jeremy:** it’s a date ♥  
  


* * *

The good thing about studying with Laila was they actually got work done. They had a system: no talking and no social media until they were both done, and if one of them got distracted, the other was not only allowed but encouraged to throw pencils at them. It worked.

Thanks to Laila taking his phone hostage, Jeremy got a lot more done than when he was alone. He actually managed to finish everything—paper on Utilitarianism included—before 11 PM. Laila closed her own books and lifted her legs on his lap, scooting closer so they could cuddle while they talked.

“So it’s really over between you and Mere?” she asked, scratching his back lightly with her fingernails. It felt _so nice_.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I mean, it wasn’t meant to last. We both knew it.”

“But still. Are you okay?”

He curled her hair around his finger. “I’m okay. It was mutual.”

“She’s really pretty. You two would have made a cute couple at the Fall Banquet,” she said.

“Maybe I’ll still take her to the Fall Banquet. I told you, we’re good. We’re friends,” he said. “And you and Sara will bring all the cute anyway.”

“We will.” She smiled and kissed his temple. “By the way, I was thinking about going shopping this Saturday. I need a dress for the banquet, and maybe shoes?”

He started braiding a few strands of her hair. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s the Fall Banquet, so I was thinking gold.”

“You’d look beautiful in gold.” He pulled Laila closer. With Meredith, the sex had been amazing, but to be honest the thing he missed the most was having someone to cuddle. It had been nice, spending the night with her, waking up with her back pressed against his chest. Laila wrapped her arms around his neck. She smelled of vanilla and jasmine. “I need a tie,” he said.

“Which suit are you wearing?”

“The blue one.”

She hummed her approval. “Good choice. We’ll find you a nice tie. Maybe a burgundy one? And we’ll have to get something for Jaimie or he’ll wear that awful silver tie again.”

“Oh, hell, yes.” Jeremy laughed softly. “What’s Sara gonna wear?”

“A red dress. She looks _amazing_ in it. Like, you’re gonna have to keep an eye on me because I’m going to lose my damn mind as soon as I see her.”

He smiled. “I’ll make sure you behave like a lady.”

* * *

Jaimie and Emma went shopping with Jeremy and Laila but bailed after the second store. It was okay: Jeremy had already persuaded Jaimie to buy a skinny black tie. Emma, their freshman striker, tried on exactly one dress, liked it, and ignored Laila’s “What if you find one you like _more_?”

So, now, Jaimie and Emma were sitting at a Starbucks drinking frappuccinos, while Jeremy texted Kevin and waited for Laila to try on a strapless dress with a flared skirt.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** w/laila shopping for the fall banquet  
  
trying to convince her to let me buy a floral print tie  
  
**Kevin:** Got pictures?  
  


Jeremy took a photo of the tie he liked—white with pink and blue roses—together with Laila’s choice—a solid deep red—and sent it to Kevin.

**Kevin:** Trust Laila on this.  
  
**Jeremy:** you don’t get a say, mr. i-only-wear-black  
  
**Kevin:** It’s an Exy event. I’m Kevin Day. I get to pick your tie.  
  
**Jeremy:** you wish  
  


“Jere, I need your help,” Laila called him.

He joined her in the changing room and zipped up her dress while she held her hair out of the way.

“You look beautiful,” he told her.

Laila smoothed down her skirt. “You like it?”

“Yeah. And you get to show off your tattoo,” he added, brushing his thumb over her collarbone. _Once Upon a Time,_ her tattoo read. “You kinda look like a princess in this so it’s perfect.”

She smiled, then turned around and checked her profile in the mirror. “I’m going to need a push-up bra. And I was thinking red shoes, to match Sara’s dress and your tie?”

“I’m not getting the red tie, but we can look for red shoes. Our friendship stops just before bra shopping, though, so you’re on your own for that one.”

“You are so getting the red tie.” She turned so she was facing the mirror again and rested her back against his chest.

“Can I take a picture to send Kevin?”

She nodded and they took a few prom-style pictures making silly faces.

“He agrees with you on the tie thing, by the way,” Jeremy told her after sending a couple of photos to Kevin.

“Two against one. You have to get the red one.”

“My tie, my decision.”

**Kevin:** She looks amazing! And so do you :))  
  
She clearly has great taste. Let her pick your tie.  
  
**Jeremy:** what does jean say?  
  
**Kevin:** He says the floral one fits you.  
  


“Kevin agrees that you look amazing, and Jean says I should get the floral tie,” Jeremy told Laila.

“Fine, I give up.”

He smiled and kissed her hair. “Smoothies and then shoes?”

“Yeah, I’ll get changed.”

He got out of the changing room and texted Kevin again:

**Jeremy:** thank you, JEAN  
  
i’m getting the floral tie :)  
  
**Kevin:** I feel sorry for your date. And Jean never said it was better, only that it fits you.  
  
**Jeremy:** whatever. and i’m probably going with jaimie as friends. he won’t even notice my tie  
  
**Kevin:** Too busy looking at your ass? :)  
  
**Jeremy:** whaat? no no jaimie doesn’t like me like that  
  
but he doesn’t really notice clothes, so he won’t care  
  
**Kevin:** If you say so…  
  


“Ready to go,” Laila said as she came out of the changing room. “For the record, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you while you pay for that tie.”

He laughed and followed her to the check-out.

* * *

Being team captain came easy to Jeremy. (Unsurprisingly, his friends and family said.) He was always the first one on the court and the last one to leave, he continued Jameal’s tradition of voluntary Saturday morning practices, he organized some hang-outs and parties for team-building purposes, advised the freshmen on how to balance their course-load and find their place on the team, and helped smooth down any tension and fights between players.

Most people would have found the job tiresome, but he didn’t. He loved it and he felt energized by it.

In August, he talked the entire team into participating in a 5K charity run that benefited homeless LGBT youth. In early September, Laila and Jaimie helped him organize a Bake-off between the Exy team, the football team, and the cheerleading squad. Thousands of students and local fans queued for hours to get the chance to taste their cupcakes and cast their vote. They raised over $15,000—split equally between a charity that promoted sports for at-risk teens, and an animal shelter. (The cheerleaders’ red velvet cupcakes won the Bake-off, but at least the Exy team won second place with their strawberries and cream cheese cupcakes.)

“You couldn’t organize a healthy salad-making competition?” Kevin texted him when Jeremy sent him pictures of huge bowls of buttercream. But five minutes later the Paypal account they’d set up for online donations received an anonymous donation for $222, and Jeremy had no doubts where that came from.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** thank you!!  
  
**Kevin:** I don’t know what you’re talking about.  
  
**Jeremy:** i’m bringing you cupcakes the next time we meet :)  
  
sugar-free, dairy-free, and with lots of pineapples  
  
**Kevin:** :)  
  


Now, as his next project, Jeremy was thinking about a Hugging Booth where for a donation you could get a hug from the Exy player of your choice. The female basketball team seemed interested in joining them, which was promising, and Jeremy was thinking about asking Meredith if the cheerleaders wanted to be a part of it as well.

He spent most of the four-hour drive to Las Vegas for the Fall Banquet on the phone with the basketball captain going over ideas and trying to find a date that worked for everyone until Jaimie made him hang up.

They had invited Jameal to the banquet since he was now living in Las Vegas, but unfortunately, he had an away game with the Tornadoes and couldn’t make it. Jeremy would have loved to see him and talk to him face to face. But, on the bright side, Jameal had promised to come to their next home game.

They got changed into their suits and dresses at the hotel, then joined the other teams at the stadium. Jeremy sent Kevin a picture of his floral tie, and then a group shot of himself, Jaimie, Laila, and Sara.

“Looking good! (I still hate that tie, though)” Kevin texted back. He also sent a selfie of Jean and himself in their black suits at the banquet in New York.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** you guys look ravishing  
  
some color wouldn’t hurt though  
  
**Kevin:** We’re the Ravens, not the Peacocks.  
  
**Jeremy:** it's a party, you don’t have to wear your team colors  
  
**Kevin:** Sara’s in red with gold jewelry, Laila in gold with red shoes, Jaimie has a red suit…  
  
…and you’re in blue with a flower-printed tie.  
  
**Jeremy:** will you let it go? lol  
  
**Kevin:** No. Shame on you. You’re the captain!  
  
**Jeremy:** i’ll wear a red tie at the winter banquet if you wear a navy suit  
  
**Kevin:** No deal.  
  


Jeremy chuckled and pocketed his phone.

During dinner, they had a pleasant conversation with a team from Arizona, then most of them took advantage of the improvised dance floor. Jeremy danced with Jaimie, then with Laila, and then again with Jaimie.

“You look handsome tonight, even more than usual,” Jaimie told him after a few songs and a few drinks. “And I for one like your tie.”

Jeremy smiled. “Thank you. At least someone appreciates it. You look really good, too.”

Jaimie moved his hand to the back of Jeremy’s neck and rubbed it gently. His lips curved in a small smile. “I—” He stopped, hesitated, then started again. “Jeremy, what I meant to say—what I should have said—is that you look beautiful and I can’t take my eyes off you and it’s taking all my self-control right now not to kiss you.”

Jeremy stopped right in the middle of the dance floor and took a step back. “Don’t do that. Don’t joke about it,” he signed angrily.

He’d never told Jaimie how he felt, but Jaimie had to know. It had taken Emma all of three days to notice it; there was no way Jaimie didn’t know. It was that one thing they both knew but didn’t talk about, because it would have been too awkward. Jaimie was not supposed to mention it. And he sure as hell was not supposed to turn it into a joke.

“I’m not. I promise you, I’m not,” Jaimie said.

Before Jeremy had time to process or reply, another couple bumped into him pushing him against Jaimie. They apologized, and he apologized back for standing there where people were dancing. As soon as the couple turned away, Jeremy took Jaimie’s hand and walked off the dance floor.

“We’re going outside. We need to talk,” he told Jaimie, before dragging him towards the door.

Rhemann gave them a look when they walked by him but didn’t stop them. As soon as they were in the parking lot, Jeremy pushed Jaimie against the Trojan bus and looked at him.

“Explain,” he signed, taking a few steps back. He needed physical distance between them right now. He needed to know what Jaimie meant before he let himself come closer. Because if he stood too close to Jaimie, he would kiss him, and he didn’t think he could survive being openly rejected by Jaimie.

“Jesus, Jeremy, calm down. I thought you’d be happy. I thought—” Jaimie shook his head. “I’m an idiot. I misread the signs and I’m an idiot and I’m sorry. I thought you liked me. I thought—”

“I do! I do like you.” It felt good to finally let it out, this big secret he’d been keeping from Jaimie for over two years. It also felt terrifying.

Jaimie visibly relaxed and smiled. He had such a beautiful smile. “Are you going to freak out if I kiss you?”

He took a step closer and placed his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders. Jeremy didn’t move. Everything was happening too fast and not fast enough. Jaimie was looking at him, waiting for an answer. He wasn’t going to do anything else until Jeremy said it was okay.

“Don’t kiss me,” Jeremy signed eventually. “Not unless you mean it. Not if it’s just tonight. Not if all you want is sex.”

Jaimie came even closer. There was barely enough space between them to have a conversation.

“It’s not a hook-up.” Jaimie stopped signing to touch the collar of Jeremy’s shirt, his neck. Intimate, tender. “I want a relationship with you. I want a fucking epic love story. I want years and decades. I want forever. It’s not a hook-up. I’m not leaving.”

Thank God it was _Jaimie_. Because Jeremy was freaking out but Jaimie was saying all the right things. He knew Jeremy and his insecurities and his anxieties.

“I’m sorry, I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay. You can freak out. It’s me.” Jaimie smiled.

Jeremy took a step closer, going in for a hug, but then he was kissing Jaimie, standing on tip-toes and holding onto Jaimie’s shoulders for support. The entire world was spinning—faster, faster, faster. Jaimie was the only steady thing. Jaimie pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, and Jeremy lost himself in it. In Jaimie. In the two of them holding tight to one another.

A kiss two years in the making.

* * *

They tumbled together inside their hotel room, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes. They got rid of their ties and jackets and Jeremy unbuttoned Jaimie’s shirt with unsteady hands. He kissed Jaimie’s neck—his best friend’s neck—and then—

And then he stopped.

He took a step back and looked up at Jaimie.

“What are we doing?” he asked, panic infiltrating his thoughts. “We are—This is—We cannot do this. You’re my best friend. We can’t do this. Not like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like a thing that we’ll regret in the morning. Like it doesn’t mean anything. Like—”

“Calm down.” Jaimie put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders and Jeremy stopped talking, let his friend guide him to the bed, sat down, and watched Jaimie take a seat on the other bed. Putting some distance between them. Good. Distance was good. It was what they needed right now.

They needed to talk about it and figure it all out before they went any further. Right now, they could still go back. They could laugh it off as a drunken mistake, even though neither of them had had enough to drink for alcohol to be a believable excuse. But they could pretend for a while, until enough time had passed, until they could admit the truth without any risk of ruining their friendship.

They could still go back. They could. If they wanted to.

Jeremy wasn’t sure he wanted to go back. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go ahead either.

“Breathe,” Jaimie signed.

“We can’t sleep together.” Jeremy took a few breaths. “We will fuck it all up, and we won’t be friends anymore, and then our friends will have to choose sides, and the team will collapse so we won’t qualify for the Spring Championship, and coach Rhemann will kill us all.”

Jaimie looked mildly concerned but mostly like he was trying not to laugh.

Fine, maybe Jeremy had exaggerated a little.

“If we sleep together, twenty-eight people, ourselves included, will die. Is that what you’re saying?” Jaimie asked.

“No. _Fine_. But we will lose our friendship, and then one of us will transfer to a different team at the end of the semester, and we will only see each other at games, and we won’t ever speak to each other again,” Jeremy countered. This option felt scarier because, unlike the other one, it was an actual possibility.

“Or we start dating, have two and a half wonderful years together at USC, sign with pro teams within reasonable a distance from each other or maybe even the same team, get married, and live happily ever after.”

“Since when are you an optimist?” Jeremy said, instead of focusing on the perfect scenario Jaimie had just painted for him.

“Since you seem to have left your optimism in Cali.” Jaimie leaned forward. There were less than three inches between their knees. Jaimie bumped the side of Jeremy’s shoe with the tip of his own. “Hey. Talk to me.”

Jeremy sighed. “I have wanted this for so long. You don’t even know.”

“Since Taylor and I broke up?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Since freshman year. Since that night at the beach when we almost kissed,” he finally admitted. There was no point in keeping it a secret anymore. “But I wasn’t ready then. I wasn’t ready to date. I had just—_lost_ Ben and I was barely back on my feet. And when I was finally ready, you were with Taylor and I thought it would never happen. Us. I thought we would never happen.”

Jaimie reached out and put a hand on Jeremy’s knee. He squeezed it gently before signing, “Why didn’t you say anything after Taylor broke up with me? I mean, not right away. I get why you didn’t say anything right away. But after a while. During the summer.”

“When you were checking Taylor’s social media accounts every ten minutes?” Jeremy retorted.

“Alright, fair.”

Jeremy sighed. “I thought you weren’t interested. I thought you didn’t like me that way.”

“Is that why you slept with Meredith?”

“No,” Jeremy signed. “Well, maybe that was a part of it. Forgetting you. Getting over you. I don’t know. I liked her. But yeah, maybe it was a little about you, too.”

He had had fun with Meredith. It had been uncomplicated. No expectations, no confusion. Fun dates, great sex, and the unspoken agreement that it wasn’t going to last. It couldn’t be like that with Jaimie. They had history. They had so much to lose.

“I was jealous of her,” Jaimie admitted. “Of Kevin, too. I thought you were hopelessly in love with him or something.”

“I’m not in love with Kevin.” He loved Kevin as a friend, and there was physical attraction between them, but when he thought about being in a relationship it was Jaimie he thought of. Always Jaimie. “In fact, he has listened to me pine over you almost as often as Laila.”

“You _pined _over me?”

Jeremy groaned. “Shut up.”

Jaimie chuckled. They looked at each other for a few moments without talking. Jaimie had a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Hey.” Jaimie touched Jeremy’s knee to get his attention. “Look, all jokes aside, I like you. I probably shouldn’t have told you at the party like that, but I am serious about it.”

Jeremy wanted to stop worrying and enjoy this. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Why did he have this sinking feeling in his stomach?

“You are not just anyone,” he signed. “If we fuck it up, we lose our friendship.”

“We won’t,” Jaimie replied right away. “We are going to be so happy.”

Pushing his anxiety down, Jeremy took a deep breath. “Okay.” He smiled. “Okay, I’m in.”

A moment later, Jaimie had pushed him back against the mattress and was kissing him. Finally shutting down his fears, Jeremy allowed himself to be happy.


	25. Chapter 24: Behind These Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin struggles to keep it together as Riko's violence escalates. Jeremy worries about his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: non-graphic descriptions of violence and abuse; mentions of rape

_What goes on behind these doors  
I'll keep mine and you keep yours  
We all have our secrets  
We all have our secrets  
_—“No One’s Here to Sleep” by Naughty Boy

## Chapter 24: Behind These Doors

The door closed behind Riko, and Kevin slowly let out the breath he’d been holding. Without opening his eyes, he did a mental check: no broken bones; his arm hurt from being cruelly twisted behind his back for too long but it was going to be okay in a few days; the cuts on his back weren’t very deep and they probably wouldn’t even scar.

He was okay.

He could still play.

He could still play.

_He could still play._

He wasn’t damaged; he wasn’t useless. He could still play.

He focused on that while Jean got the handcuffs open and off his wrists. He repeated it as a mantra while Jean cleaned up the blood and bandaged him up.

“You’re okay,” Jean whispered eventually. He brushed Kevin’s hair back and away from his face and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. “You’re okay.”

Kevin nodded and didn’t say anything.

He needed to be more careful. He needed to stop trying to play the perfect game, even though it was what he most wanted. He needed to remember his place: _second best_.

He’d almost outscored Riko tonight—again—and he was lucky he was getting off so easily. It could have been so much worse. For a moment, he’d thought Riko was going to keep pushing until his arm snapped. If he couldn’t play—

What would he do then?

He choked down a sob at the thought.

He was so close now—_so close_—he couldn’t afford to lose it all.

He had to be more careful.

***

Kevin was curled up on his right side. The cuts on his back burned and his left arm was still too sore for him to lie on that side. He was listening to Riko’s breathing, waiting for him to fall asleep so he could slip out of their room.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Riko’s breathing was slow and regular. Kevin counted to one hundred to be safe, then very carefully got out of bed and stole out of the room. He wanted the comfort of Jean’s arms but it would have been too risky. Jean’s roommate this year was a light sleeper and extremely loyal to Riko.

Kevin padded upstairs and stepped outside in the warm afternoon air. It was always a shock, realizing that the world outside was spinning at a different pace. It was night inside the Nest but the rest of the East Coast was hours away from dinner time.

He took a deep breath, then another.

He opened the Gallery on his phone and looked at the pictures from California: the ocean at sunset, Jean bathed in pink light, the cloudless sky. The tightness in his chest eased a little and he found he could breathe more easily.

Without overthinking it, he called Jeremy.

“Hi, Kev,” Jeremy answered after three rings. His voice was warm sunshine.

“Hi.”

“How’re you doing? Wait, hold on, let me—” There was a shuffling noise, the dull click of a door closing, and then Jeremy’s voice again. “Sorry. I’m all yours now. How are you?”

“I’m okay, and you?”

“I’m good. You sound tired.”

Kevin pressed his lips together. Maybe so he wouldn’t start crying. Maybe to keep the truth in.

“I’m a bit tired, yeah,” he admitted. “It’s the beginning of the season.”

“Mhm, yeah, I get it.”

Jeremy paused. Was he waiting to hear if Kevin said something? If he had a reason for calling, maybe, or if he just wanted to elaborate on that ‘being tired’ thing? But what could Kevin say?

“You played a really great game last night, by the way,” Jeremy said when the silence had stretched on long enough.

“Thank you.”

Kevin didn’t want to think about it right now. He wanted—He wanted some comfort. That was why he called Jeremy, right? Hoping it would distract him and make him feel a bit better.

“I’m actually having kind of a shitty day. I could use a distraction,” he admitted. “Tell me what’s been going on in your life. Any new charity projects, Captain Sunshine?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you instead?” Jeremy offered.

Kevin didn’t reply. He wanted to. Of course, he wanted to.

He imagined it sometimes at night, telling Jeremy everything. About the Moriyamas, the Master, _Riko_. About what really went on at Castle Evermore. Jeremy would believe him. (He would, wouldn’t he?) Every now and then, Kevin even imagined that Jeremy would find a way to get him and Jean out. _Somehow_.

But this wasn’t a daydream to soothe his nerves. This was the real world and Jeremy couldn’t know the truth, so Kevin remained silent.

“Well, I do have some news actually,” Jeremy said eventually. The worried edge in his voice disappeared almost completely, smoothed out by a smile. “Last weekend at the banquet Jaimie and I got together.”

“About time,” Kevin said.

“Yeah, yeah, apparently I was the only one who hadn’t noticed he liked me. Wait, did you seriously know already? You met him for, like, six hours.”

“It was kind of obvious.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Not to me. I freaked out a little.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Anyway. We’re together now. We’re trying to take it slow. _Ish_. I mean, we slept together. But now we’re trying to, like, pace ourselves? Not spend all of our time together, not spend every night together.”

Jeremy sounded so happy and it was contagious. For a moment, standing outside of Evermore listening to him, Kevin could actually remember that there was some good in the world.

“I’m happy for you,” he said truthfully.

“How’s Jean?”

_Trying to recover from being raped by the entire Raven line. Again._

“He’s okay,” Kevin lied.

“Tell him I say hi.”

“I will.” Kevin closed his eyes. He had to go back inside before someone noticed his absence. “I should go. It’s a busy weekend.”

“I’m glad you called,” Jeremy said. “I hope your day gets better.”

Kevin nodded even though Jeremy couldn’t see him. “Thank you. Bye, Jeremy.”

“Bye.”

After hanging up, Kevin took a few more deep breaths. He was deleting the call from his phone history when he received a few pictures from Jeremy: new photos of Hector, mostly, with some shots of Jeremy and his friends getting ready for the banquet mixed in.

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** i hope they make your day a bit better  
  
and i hope you know you can always call me. you can always talk to me  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you, Jeremy.  
  


Kevin slowly went through the pictures a second time, taking in the details, and then deleted them all. One more sacrifice he had to make.

For Exy.

* * *

Jeremy had decided he would not worry himself sick. It was a precautionary scan. Cassandra’s doctor was only being extra scrupulous. His sister was okay. She was okay. She just had to be. So he wasn’t going to worry. He was going to live his life, not think about it, and then on Monday she would call him and tell him she was still cancer-free.

That was the plan.

It was a good plan.

Only—

A week before, Jeremy found himself on his laptop looking at flight times and texting his sister to tell her he was going to spend the weekend with her. He could take a red-eye flight on Friday night after the game so he would only miss class and practice on Monday. Coach R. wasn’t going to like it but Jeremy knew he would understand, and his parents weren’t going to object to the credit card charge. They would have gone themselves if they’d been able to take time off work.

He looked at his phone. Cass had texted him back:

**Chat with “****Cass****”**  
  
**Cassandra:** You’re my favorite brother! (And not just because you’re the only one I’ve got ;))  
  
I’ve got a seminar on Saturday though so take a later flight  
  
I can pick you up from the airport around 5pm  
  


Jeremy looked back at his laptop and changed the time of the research settings. He was about to hit the Search button when he had an idea.

He texted Kevin.

**Chat with “****Kev”**  
  
**Jeremy:** any chance you’re in baltimore next saturday?  
  
i’m visiting my sister in nyc and i could make a stop in baltimore on my way there  
  


It was a long shot, but he knew Kevin and Riko sometimes traveled to Maryland during the weekend to play with the Wildcats. Did the Wildcats have a game next weekend? He opened a new tab to look up their game schedule when Kevin replied.

**Kevin:** Yes, actually, but it’s a busy weekend.  
  
I might have some time in the morning but I can’t promise anything.  
  
I really want to see you but I don’t know if I can make it happen.  
  


Jeremy thought about it. It wasn’t going to be much more expensive. Worst-case scenario, he could visit Baltimore. It was worth the risk for the chance of maybe seeing Kevin for a few hours.

He was worried about his friend. More and more, Kevin had been replying to his messages when he should have been sleeping. He’d sounded tired on the phone a few days ago. No, more than tired. He’d sounded—like he was barely holding himself together.

Maybe it would be easier for him to talk to Jeremy in person than on the phone. And even if he didn’t open up, at least Jeremy could give him a hug and remind him to be kind to himself.

He changed his search settings—Los Angeles to Baltimore—and selected a non-stop flight that would get him there at 7 AM. Then he could leave mid-afternoon and be in New York just in time for Cassandra to pick him up. It worked perfectly.

**Jeremy:** i land at 6.55am  
  
i really hope we’ll get to spend some time together, but don’t worry if you can’t make it happen, okay?  
  
**Kevin:** I’ll do my best. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.  
  
**Jeremy:** :))  
  
fingers crossed  
  


He heard footsteps but didn’t turn around. He already knew it was Jaimie. A few seconds later, Jaimie’s hands were on his shoulders, rubbing them and trying to get the tension out of his muscles. Jeremy leaned back against him.

“So, I did a thing,” he signed a few minutes later, swirling around in his desk chair to face him. “You know how I said I wouldn’t worry?”

“You booked a flight?”

“I booked a flight.”

“She’s going to be okay,” Jaimie told him. “But I actually think it’s good that you’re going. You will worry less if you’re there with her. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I think we’re gonna have a brother-sister week-end. But thank you.” Jeremy looked at him in the eye. “I’m also going to try and see Kevin on Saturday. He’s in Baltimore for a game, so we might be able to meet. Cass is busy all day on Saturday anyway.”

“You’re worried about him.”

“Yes,” Jeremy replied even though it wasn’t a question.

Jaimie sat on Jeremy’s bed. “I’m sure he’s okay too, but I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too.” Jeremy got up and joined him on the bed. “Cuddles?”

He smiled as Jaimie tackled him down, wrapped his arms around him, and covered his face in dozens of little kisses.


	26. Chapter 25: It Doesn't Hurt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Baltimore, a few of Kevin's secrets come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mentions of violence and abuse; anxiety

_It doesn't hurt me  
Do you want to feel how it feels?  
Do you want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me?  
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?  
_—“Running Up That Hill” by Placebo

## Chapter 25: It Doesn’t Hurt Me

On Thursday night, Kevin texted Jeremy to confirm that he’d managed to free up his schedule for a few hours on Saturday morning. “But we have to lay low,” he added. “I booked us a hotel room.”

Laila made a joke when Jeremy told her—“Maybe you should remind him you have a boyfriend,” she said—but Jeremy was worried. Something was off. Kevin’s need to keep a low profile was nothing new, but they’d had brunch at a café a few months ago and now Kevin wouldn’t even risk that?

Jaimie suggested he was focusing his anxiety on Kevin so he wouldn’t think about Cassandra, and maybe he was right. But still—It didn’t add up.

On Friday night, Jaimie insisted on driving him to the airport and Laila ended up coming with them. Jeremy hugged them both, kissed Jaimie, and promised to text them when he landed. He managed to get a few hours of sleep on the plane, but as soon as they landed he still went straight into the first coffee shop he could find and ordered the largest cup of coffee on the menu.

He was meeting Kevin at 10, so he took his time having a nice breakfast before heading to the hotel Kevin had booked. Kevin texted him the room number when he was about to go inside. He took the elevator to the fifth floor and knocked at the door. Kevin opened it almost right away.

“Hey, morning,” Jeremy said with a smile.

Kevin moved to the side and let Jeremy in before closing the door. “Hi. How was your flight?”

“It was alright. How are you?”

“I’m okay.” Kevin shrugged. He didn’t look okay. He looked thousands of miles away from okay.

Jeremy dropped his duffel bag on the floor and hugged him. For once, Kevin hugged him back right away, like he’d been expecting the hug, had maybe even been looking forward to it. Jeremy moved his hands slowly up and down Kevin’s back, feeling the tense muscles through the fabric of Kevin’s black sweater.

“You look tired,” he said when they pulled apart.

It was an understatement: Kevin looked _exhausted_. Jeremy felt dopey after getting so little sleep, but Kevin—Kevin looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. There was a tension in his jaw that Jeremy didn’t miss, and a haunted look in his red-rimmed eyes that he didn’t like.

Kevin sat on the edge of the bed. There was a small desk with a chair tucked in a corner of the room but Jeremy ignored it and plopped down on the bed next to Kevin.

“I’m a bit tired, yeah,” Kevin admitted. “Playing for three teams and going to class is a lot. Worth it though.”

“I thought we were past you giving me the press answer and me pretending to believe it’s how you actually feel,” he said looking at him.

Kevin lowered his eyes. “What am I supposed to do? It’s _Court_.”

Not many college players were offered a spot on the national team and nobody refused it—Thea Muldani being the exception to the rule—and Jeremy knew he wouldn’t either if they asked him.

Kevin and Riko, however, were the only college players who had also signed with a professional team. Jeremy guessed it was only possible because of coach Moriyama. Jeremy’s contract with USC forbid him to play Exy professionally before he graduated and he knew it was a standard clause. Coach Moriyama must have negotiated different terms when Kevin and Riko signed their scholarship papers with Edgar Allan.

Colleges obviously wanted the athletes they invested in to focus only on their team, which made sense. Looking at Kevin now, Jeremy realized the clause was also meant to protect players from putting too much on their plates.

“No, I get that. Of course, you’re not going to ditch the national team,” Jeremy said. “But what about the Wildcats? You played a game with the Ravens last night and a few hours later you were on a plane to come here because you have another game tonight? You should be resting and enjoying your weekend.”

He expected Kevin to say he wasn’t tired, that it was what he wanted, that it was worth it. Instead, Kevin surprised him by saying, “It’s not really my choice.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Jeremy turned around to face him, knees brushing against Kevin’s left leg. Kevin was looking down at his hands and his mouth was drawn in a hard line.

“Coach Moriyama?” Jeremy asked. Because who else would make the decision for Kevin?

Kevin nodded. “He calls the shots. He’s got a lot of experience and connections, and he knows what’s best for my career.”

Tetsuji Moriyama was a legend, having invented the sport. He knew Exy better than anyone else. But—

“Does he know what’s best for _you_?”

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s really not.”

Kevin didn’t reply so Jeremy put a hand on his shoulder. “What if you talked to him? You can tell him that you’ve got too much on your plate and—”

“It’s not how it works,” Kevin cut in. “We don’t have that kind of relationship. We don’t talk about things. I told you, he’s not my father and he never wanted to be.”

Jeremy thought about his high school coach, who had supported him during some of the toughest moments of his life. He thought about coach Rhemann coming to his dorm room during his freshman year and sitting with him for an entire afternoon when the spring anniversaries hit him so hard he couldn’t get up from the floor of his bedroom; about Rhemann’s offer of giving him time off the court so he could go home around the same time last year; about how only a few days ago he’d told Jeremy not to worry about missing practice on Monday and to go be with his sister. He thought about Laila’s high school coach who still came to see her play as often as he could and always cheered the loudest. He thought about Jaimie’s high school coach flying to Los Angeles to tell coach Rhemann he _had_ to sign his senior offensive dealer, to tell him to look at Jaimie’s stats and at the videos of him playing, not at the line in his file that said he was Deaf.

Forget being a father. What kind of coach—what kind of _man_—was Tetsuji Moriyama if he wouldn’t listen to the kid he’d raised when he told him he was tired and it was too much and he needed a break?

None of this was going to help Kevin, though, so he kept it to himself.

“You’re nineteen, you can make your own choices,” he said, hand still on Kevin’s shoulder.

“I have a five-year contract with the Wildcats.”

“What does Riko think?” Jeremy asked, because _hell_, Riko was the only person who could really get it, right? Maybe he and Kevin weren’t close, but they were in the same exact situation. He had to be tired, too, right? If they both talked to their coach, maybe—

“Riko wants this. He wants to be number one. It’s the only thing he wants,” Kevin said. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. He paused for a few seconds, looking conflicted, but then apparently decided to elaborate. “You know Riko’s father is coach Moriyama’s brother, right? Riko grew up with Tetsuji because his family doesn’t want anything to do with him. He’s got a brother he hasn’t even met, just like he’s never met his father. Riko thinks if he’s the best, if he wins everything, if he’s number one—then maybe his father will notice him. So he doesn’t care about anything else.”

It was fucked up, but Jeremy could kind of relate. He’d spent years with a voice inside his head telling him that if he was good enough maybe Henry would come back. Not even years of therapy had completely erased his need to excel powered by the fear that people would leave him if he failed.

“And what do _you_ want?” he asked Kevin.

“I want the same. I want to be the best, I want to win the Olympics.” Kevin finally looked at Jeremy. “Exy is the only thing I have left of my mom, and she would have wanted me to play.”

Jeremy squeezed Kevin’s shoulder. “She would have wanted you to be happy. She would have loved you even if you stopped playing.”

“But I _want_ to play. I love Exy. I really do. When I’m playing—Do you ever feel like your life is out of control, but on the court everything makes sense?” Kevin waited for Jeremy to nod before going on: “I love that feeling. And I love the game. I love practicing by myself to perfect my technique, and I love the adrenaline of playing with my team. It makes me feel alive. I would never give it up. I just need to adjust. I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay,” Jeremy said because it wasn’t like they could get him out of his contracts, right? So there really wasn’t much they could do to change the way things were. Which meant the only thing he could do for Kevin was being supportive.

* * *

For a moment, Kevin had hoped Jeremy would have the answer. There was no way out for him. He _knew_ that. And yet—yet for one precious moment, he’d let himself hope.

But of course not even Jeremy had a solution.

There was no solution. No way out.

All he could do was play, obey the Master’s orders, and try not to make Riko angry.

“So you’re going to see your sister this weekend? Cassandra, right?” he said, changing the subject. “First time in New York?”

“No. Justice and I visited for a few days when Cass first moved there so I’ve done some of the touristy stuff already. I don’t know what we’re going to do this time. To be honest, I don’t really care. I just want to see her and be with her.” Something changed in Jeremy’s voice and in the way he held himself. “We’re waiting for some test results. Her doctor should call her on Monday. Uh, she was diagnosed with bone cancer for the first time when she was seven. She’s been healthy for years now but it’s always scary.”

Jeremy looked anxious and Kevin wished he knew what the right thing to say was. Jeremy was always supporting and encouraging him. He wanted to do the same, but what should he say? That he was sure his sister would be okay? He couldn’t possibly know that so how reassuring would that be?

He patted Jeremy’s knee. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Thank you. Honestly, she’s going to be okay. Of course she is. I mean, she has to be, right?” Jeremy said. “I’m just a mess over it. Being with her will help, I think.”

“And I’m sure she’ll love having you there.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I mean, I’m her little brother and she’s always trying to protect me, but I know she’s worried too. So we’ll spend our Sunday stress-eating together, I guess.”

“Not a good plan but you get a pass just this once.”

“Thank you, coach Day.” Jeremy smiled at him. The worry was still there, but he was a bit more relaxed. “Jaimie, Laila, and Sara say hi, by the way.”

“How are they? And how are things with Jaimie?”

“They’re good. And yeah, things with Jaimie are really, really wonderful. He’s amazing.” Jeremy’s voice softened and so did his smile. “He’s really sweet and we already know each other very well so I think it’s easier. I thought it would be awkward in the beginning because he’s been my best friend for so long, but it really wasn’t.”

Kevin had seen all the pictures Jeremy posted on Instagram: holding hands, kissing, lying together on the bed with their arms around each other, sharing an ice cream sundae, smiling, smiling, smiling. They looked so happy.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he and Jean could ever be that happy. In a few years, maybe. After college. If they played for the same professional team, they could get an apartment together. They would have to be discreet but it could be done, right? Walking down the beach hand in hand was never going to happen, but they could carve a little space for themselves away from the media and the fans. Walls painted white, warm wooden floors, big windows to see the sky that Jean always missed so much. They could build a life there. Steal away hours, entire days sometimes, from their busy lives and be together.

They just had to hold on a bit longer.

They just had to stay alive.

“Are you sharing a room yet?” he asked Jeremy.

“No, not yet. I don’t want to rush it, you know? I don’t want to screw things up. Probably next semester. I might ask him during winter break. He’s already sleeping in my room a couple of nights a week but it’s different. Sharing a room feels like a bigger step. Or maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

Kevin raised his arm to brush his hair off his eyes. “I think it’s smart that you’re taking it slow.”

“Yeah. Well, apparently we’re not the only ones having fun,” Jeremy teased.

Kevin didn’t get what he meant until he followed his gaze: Jeremy was looking at Kevin’s forearm, where his sweater had slipped up to reveal the bruises around his wrist.

He tried to keep his face neutral but something must have shown because a moment later Jeremy added, in a completely different tone, “Or not.”

_Fuck._

He should have laughed and played along. Was it too late now? Could he still say that yes, he and Jean had been having fun? Would Jeremy believe him?

His stomach turned at the thought of blaming those bruises on Jean.

Jean, who had matching ones as well as dozens more. Jean, who always took the worst of Riko’s abuse. Jean, who often cried himself to sleep. Jean, who had never been anything but gentle with Kevin.

“I’m sorry I asked. I was just making a joke. It’s none of my business,” Jeremy hurried to say.

Kevin barely heard him. His head was spinning. He got up, pulling his sleeve down with a sharp tug. He could feel Riko on top of him, pinning him down to the mattress with his weight, his knife sharp against Kevin’s skin and—

“Kev, are you okay?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah,” Kevin managed to say, struggling to keep the panic out of his voice. “Uh, it’s nothing. It was—It wasn’t Jean. It was a hazing ritual. Sort of. A Raven thing.”

He held his breath. Was Jeremy going to believe him?

What would Kevin do if he didn’t?

“Looks rough,” Jeremy said. He sounded confused.

“It’s fine, really.”

He could feel Jeremy’s eyes on him.

Jeremy was standing now, too, but he hadn’t tried to come closer. Kevin was grateful for that. He was quite sure he was going to throw up if someone touched him right now.

“It doesn’t look like it’s fine.”

Jeremy’s voice was gentle but it was tearing Kevin’s world apart. What could Kevin say to make him believe him? What lie could he—?

Not a lie, he realized. _The truth_. As little of the truth as he could get away with.

He collected himself and turned around to look at Jeremy.

“It was Riko,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had a chance to reply to the most recent comments yet. I appreciate every single one of them so much and will hopefully be able to reply before the next chapter is up.


	27. Chapter 26: The Terror of Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in Baltimore, Jeremy and Kevin talk some more. One of Kevin's best-kept secrets comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: references to abuse and torture, violence, homophobia.

_That's the terror of knowing  
What this world is about  
Watching some good friends screaming,  
"Let me out!"  
_—“Under Pressure” by Queen & David Bowie

## Chapter 26: The Terror of Knowing

_Riko_?

Jeremy couldn’t make sense of what Kevin was saying.

What the hell went on at Edgar Allan? A hazing ritual that involved handcuffing players? Something so upsetting that Kevin seemed on the verge of a panic attack just thinking about it? And Riko was involved? Jeremy knew Riko and Kevin weren’t close, but he thought they were at least united as teammates.

He wanted to get closer to Kevin but the way Kevin was holding himself told him he should probably wait and give him some space right now. He sat back down on the bed instead.

“What happened?” he asked.

Kevin tugged at the sleeve of his sweater and pressed his lips together, then squared his shoulders—pulling himself together—and looked at Jeremy. “It’s a Raven thing. A way to remind us we have to be the best, that’s all. I fucked up during practice.”

His voice was steadier now and he was talking about it as if it happened to someone else. He was also making it sound like it was normal. Jeremy almost missed his panic from before. Nothing about handcuffing teammates and scaring them to death was normal.

He knew the Ravens had crazy high standards and used some borderline-unethical training techniques: practicing seven days a week for longer hours than any other team, to make just one example. But this was a whole other thing.

“It doesn’t sound like a ‘Raven thing,’ it sounds like bullism,” Jeremy said carefully. “Does it happen often?”

“No,” Kevin said quickly. Too quickly. “You’re making it into a much bigger thing that it is. It’s nothing. It’s not like Riko would really hurt me.”

“No, of course not.”

What Kevin was saying sort-of made sense. It was just a bruise and of course Riko would never really hurt his teammates and Kevin in particular. But Kevin’s reaction had been so extreme before. Something wasn’t right.

Only a few moments ago, Kevin had looked like he wanted to say more. But now he was calm and reasonable and sticking to the ‘Raven thing’ story. To the ‘It’s nothing’ lie.

Kevin sat back down on the bed, a little further away from Jeremy than before. “Everything’s okay.”

Sure. Except the guy who was supposed to be his brother was quite possibly bulling him, or at least brutally punishing him for making some mistakes.

Jeremy scooted closer, gauging Kevin’s reaction. Kevin didn’t flinch or move away. Good sign. He seemed to have calmed down, at least. Jeremy put a hand on his arm and looked at him. “You know, you can tell me about it if you want. It won’t leave this room.”

“I can’t. It’s a Raven thing. You wouldn’t understand,” Kevin said.

“Try me.”

Kevin didn’t reply. His reluctance to talk about it was alarming. Maybe Jeremy was making a big deal out of a small incident. Maybe he was projecting his own anxiety over his sister’s health on Kevin. Maybe he was overreacting. But was he really? Kevin had been so upset.

Still, he couldn’t force his friend to talk about it. All he could do was let him know he could count on him, and hope it had been an isolated incident.

“Offer doesn’t expire. If you ever want to talk about it, or anything else, I’m here. But it’s also cool if you don’t want to talk,” he said. “Change of subject?”

“Please.”

“How’s your Irish History class going?”

“Quite well. It’s interesting, and my professor is letting us choose the subject of our next paper. I think I’m going to write about the War of Independence.” Kevin seemed to relax as he told Jeremy the details of his assignment and the points he was planning to argue in his paper.

Jeremy kicked off his shoes and got more comfortable on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked.

“Getting comfortable. You’re paying for a hotel room, we might as well take advantage of the whole bed.”

Kevin looked skeptical but also slightly amused. “Does your boyfriend know about this?”

“That you invited me to spend the day with you in a hotel room? Yes, he knows. Laila made jokes. Jaimie’s cool with it,” Jeremy said. He fixed the pillows and lay down.

“Last time we saw each other, he looked ready to kill me for standing too close to you.”

“Yeah, because he knew I had a crush on you. Now we are together and he knows I wouldn’t cheat on him. He trusts me. Also, he still thinks you’re straight so that probably helps.” Jeremy patted the empty side of the bed. “Come here, get comfortable.”

Kevin took off his shoes and scooted down the mattress. He didn’t lie down, though, preferring to sit with his back against the headboard, one leg bent and the other stretched out in front of him. He looked down at Jeremy, who was lying on his side, and smiled. “You’re going to fall asleep.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep.”

“If you say so.”

“What time do you have to go back to your team?” Jeremy asked.

“We still have a couple of hours.” Kevin hadn’t checked the time before replying, which meant he was already keeping a close eye on the clock to avoid being late. “Unless you have to leave earlier?”

“No, my flight’s at—” Jeremy checked his phone to be sure. “—5.03 PM. Hey, do you want to order food? It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Kevin made to get up but Jeremy stopped him with a hand on his elbow. “Hold on, I want to take a picture first.”

“You want proof you were in bed with Kevin Day?” Kevin smiled faintly as he settled back against the headboard.

“Obviously.”

* * *

Jeremy propped himself up, fixed his glasses, put his head on Kevin’s shoulder, and took a few pictures. “I’ll send them to you later,” he said. He patted Kevin’s knee as he got up to look for a menu. Kevin had never met someone as fond of touching as Jeremy: a hug, a hand on his arm, a gentle pat on the back, a quick shoulder rub. But he’d never felt like Jeremy was invading his personal space. Before, when Kevin was struggling with a rush of bad memories, Jeremy had kept his distance even without knowing the truth.

It was nice. Kevin had been thrown back in the beginning but now he looked forward to Jeremy’s affection. The only other person who’d touched him gently in the last decade was Jean. But Jean’s touch was different: it was comforting or hungry, and always carried a shadow of desperation with it. Jeremy was casual about it. There didn’t seem to be any deeper meaning behind it other than, _You’re my friend, I love you, I’m comfortable around you, I want to make you feel good_.

It was _wild_.

Jeremy plopped back down on his side of the bed. “What do you think? Hotel food, or should we have something delivered?” he asked, after spreading a menu open on the pillow between them.

“This looks good,” Kevin said pointing at a couple of healthier options.

Jeremy eyed the hamburger with French fries. “What day’s today? I’ve already lost sense of time.”

It was always hard for Kevin to keep track of time because the outside world ran at a different pace than the Nest. But today was game day with the Wildcats, so—

“Saturday.”

“Not cheat day, then.” Jeremy sighed and looked back at the menu, hopefully looking for something _not fried_ and with more vegetables in it than a single leaf of salad and a slice of tomato. “What are you getting?”

Kevin tapped the menu with his finger. “Chicken breasts with brussels sprouts.”

Jeremy groaned. “Okay, fine. But don’t send me hate when I Instagram pictures of ice cream and pizza tomorrow.”

“When have I ever sent you hate?”

“Oh, let’s see.” Jeremy unlocked his phone and went through his and Kevin’s message history. He started reading out loud: “Are you guys having cake _again_?; You have a game tonight, how about you cut down on the sugar?; It wouldn’t kill you to eat more lean proteins and veggies; This is your daily reminder to eat five portions of fruit and vegetables (& drink plenty of water!); I know it’s cheat day but COME ON, JEREMY—all caps, too!—I could go on. This is literally just the last three weeks.”

Okay, _fine_. But it wasn’t Kevin’s fault that Jeremy kept Instagramming every questionable food choice he made. “I don’t take back any of it. It’s all good advice,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeremy laughed. “I’m going to thank you when we win the championship.”

“Keep dreaming, Knox.”

“Have you seen our team this year? We have so many good players!”

“Yes,” Kevin agreed. “So many that each one of you is barely getting any playtime. How long did you play last night?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Fifteen minutes. They didn’t need me out there. We like to give everyone a chance when we play against a weaker team. This way all of our players get some experience and we don’t humiliate our opponents. I’ll get more playtime next week against Arizona State.”

“What, thirty minutes? I’m usually on the court eighty to ninety percent of the time.”

“Half your players have been sitting on the bench all season.”

“They haven’t earned their spot on our line yet,” Kevin replied right away. Ravens had to prove their worth during practice before they were allowed to step on the court on game day. Players who couldn’t do it by the end of their sophomore year were cut from the program. It was a good incentive to give a hundred and ten percent, and it made their team the best every single year.

“Maybe—” Jeremy poked at Kevin’s arm. “—they just need some encouragement.”

“Maybe—” Kevin moved his arm out of the way and gave Jeremy a sour but fond look. “—you should stop acting like it’s the Little Leagues and everyone should get a participation trophy.”

“We’re never going to agree on this, are we?”

Kevin shrugged. “Probably not.”

Jeremy flashed him one of his bright-as-the-sun smiles as he got up again. He stretched—Kevin’s eyes fell on the tiny strip of smooth skin revealed by his hoodie riding up—and leaned over the desk to call reception. “Water?” he asked, after dialing.

“Yes. Sparkling.”

Jeremy nodded and started talking to the hotel staff on the other end of the line.

Kevin was risking everything by being here. If the Master found out he’d lied—or, even worse, if Riko did—

He didn’t want to think about it. He doubted he would be able to play after they were finished with him, and if he couldn’t play then he was _done_.

But, God, it was worth it.

Jeremy’s warmth, his smiles, his kind touches—his love: Kevin had gotten addicted to them. He’d gone without them for most of his life, but now he couldn’t stand the idea of giving them up. Of giving _Jeremy_ up.

There were weeks like this one when he knew that Exy wasn’t enough to keep him going. Jean and Jeremy were the ones keeping him alive, giving him the strength to wake up every morning, giving him a reason to endure the Master’s beatings and Riko’s cruelty.

He was walking a dangerous line but it was the only way he knew how to stay alive.

* * *

Kevin was getting ready to go when he heard a knock on the door. He looked around the hotel room. Whatever Jeremy had forgotten had to be in the bathroom because the bedroom was pristine; the only signs that anyone had been there at all were Kevin’s jacket hanging in the closet and his backpack sitting on the floor beside it.

It had looked different before Jeremy left. His friend had been there for only a few hours, but his things had been everywhere: his jacket on the back of the chair, his hoodie at the foot of the bed, his shoes in a corner, his phone and charger on the nightstand, his duffel bag next to the door, a book and a plane ticket on the table, his glasses and iPod on a pillow. The place had looked chaotic but warm, less like a hotel room and more like a home.

It had taken Jeremy almost ten minutes to get ready to leave. Kevin had sat cross-legged on the bed and watched him walk up and down the room too many times to count. Then, after giving Kevin a long hug, Jeremy had pulled his hood up and left… only to come back a few minutes later for whatever he’d apparently forgotten.

Kevin opened the door. “What did you—?”

He swallowed the end of the question as he took a few steps back, throat tight with fear.

Riko.

Riko was standing in front of him.

Kevin had been so desperate to see Jeremy that he’d downplayed the risks and now it was over. It was all over. Would Riko go so far as to have Jeremy killed? Or would his punishment fall on Kevin alone?

“What are you doing here?” Riko asked, stepping into the room and slamming the door behind him.

Kevin flinched but didn’t move. There was no escaping Riko, and trying to would only make things worse. He had learned to stand still and take it.

“You are supposed to be at the library writing your paper,” Riko went on. “So why are you here, in a hotel room, with a _guy_?”

Despite his panic, Kevin did not miss the way the question was framed. Riko said _a guy_, not Jeremy Knox. If Riko had recognized him, he would have been angry that Kevin was meeting with the captain of the USC Trojans. Instead, it sounded like Riko thought Kevin had met with a random guy. The problem was that Kevin had lied to hook up with a guy, not that Kevin had lied to meet with a rival team member.

Kevin knew how Riko felt about any sexuality that wasn’t strictly straight. He and Jean had been so careful to keep theirs a secret from him. Now there was no way out: Kevin could either tell Riko about his friendship with Jeremy or admit to coming to a hotel room to have sex with a guy.

He didn’t have time to think. It was a split-second decision.

“I’m sorry,” he said without denying Riko’s accusation. There was no way he was going to bring Jeremy up. He lowered his head but kept his eyes on Riko’s hands. Riko hadn’t touched him yet, but Kevin still felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“Disgusting,” Riko muttered. He took a step forward. Kevin pressed his lips together and didn’t move. “At least tell me you paid him to keep quiet,” Riko said. “Tell me you did not fuck a fan. Tell me you are not that stupid.”

Kevin’s voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I paid him. Well.”

“I can’t hear you!” Riko raised his voice. “Tell me it won’t be on every gossip magazine on Monday. Tell me you did not fuck up _our_ career.”

“It won’t. I didn’t,” Kevin said, putting every ounce of strength he had left into steadying his voice. “I paid him to keep quiet.”

Riko came even closer. Kevin could feel his breath on his neck; he closed his eyes.

“Look at me, coward!”

Kevin’s eyes snapped open.

“Did you fuck him? Or did he fuck you? How pathetic are you, Kevin? How disgusting?” Riko asked.

“I fucked him,” Kevin said. His voice was shaking now. Good. Riko wouldn’t believe him if he didn’t sound scared.

“How many times? How long has this been going on?”

“Just this once.”

Riko laughed. “Of course you would say that. You know how sick it is. You know you should be ashamed.”

He pushed Kevin back. Kevin did not resist; he stumbled back. He had almost a foot on Riko and was just as fit; he could have probably taken him in a fair fight. But this wasn’t a fair fight. It had never been a fair fight between them. When Riko pushed him again, he fell to the floor. He had been ready for it and he knew how to fall down without getting injured, but the bedroom was small and his knee hit the bed.

He curled up on himself, protecting his arms. He knew Riko wouldn’t touch his face; he only hurt Kevin where people couldn’t see: cuts he could hide under a t-shirt, bruises he could blame on Exy. Nobody would ever have a reason to wonder if something was wrong.

Kevin knew what was coming next but when Riko kicked him in the ribs, it still took his breath away. Kevin hated the pitiful sound that escaped his lips.

His ribs burned; his knee was already swelling up; his right shoulder would be a constellation of bruises by tonight. He could barely hear the insults Riko was throwing at him. Riko’s words could cut deep, but right now his voice was background noise.

“You will fuck Helen tonight, and then you will pray that fuckboy knows how to keep his mouth shut if not his legs,” Riko said eventually, once his rage had died down, once the violence had stopped. He kicked Kevin once more, half-heartedly. Not to hurt him, this time, but to make sure he was paying attention. “Now get cleaned up. I will wait for you downstairs. We leave in fifteen. We have a game tonight in case you’ve forgotten, and you’d better not humiliate me.”

He didn’t wait for a reply; he left, slamming the door behind him.

Kevin sat up slowly. His back and right side had taken the worst of Riko’s punishment; his ribs were bruised but luckily didn’t feel broken. Every hit he took on the court tonight would be hell, but he’d played in worse conditions. He touched his knee, feeling for fractures. It didn’t hurt badly enough to be broken but the ritual helped him calm down. Jean would usually do it, but Jean was not in Baltimore.

Kevin was on his own.

Carefully, he stood up. He’d taken a few hits last night playing with the Ravens. The Wildcats’ trainers would not get suspicious when Kevin asked him for ice and Ibuprofen. He rolled his right shoulder: sore, but ultimately uninjured. He straightened his clothes and looked at himself in the mirror: the only visible sign of Riko’s outburst was in his eyes.

He went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He wished Jean were here. He also wished he could call Jeremy and ask him to take him away from all this.

But even if Jeremy could have offered him protection—which he couldn’t—he surely could not give Kevin the opportunities the Master gave him. His dream was to be the best (_second best_) striker in the country and win the Olympics. The Master would get him there. Nobody else could. it would all be worth it once he had his gold medal.

He fixed his hair and looked at his reflection for a moment, then took as deep a breath as his sore ribs would allow, grabbed his backpack and jacket, and went to join Riko downstairs.

* * *

Since his sister had forbidden him from crying in front of her—“If you cry, I cry, and then it’s just embarrassing”—Jeremy spent the entire flight back rotating between sniffling, weeping silently, and outright sobbing. The elderly lady sitting next to him passed him tissue after tissue and made him drink plenty of water.

“Happy tears,” he repeated multiple times. “It was good news. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

The tension of two weeks of anxious worrying finally being released was probably to blame. Relief was in there, too, as was the lack of sleep.

His incredibly nice seatmate insisted on staying by his side until they were outside and she only left when Jeremy was wrapped in Jaimie’s arms.

“Thank you so much,” Jaimie told her.

He hugged Jeremy tighter, kissed his forehead, and gave him a few minutes to calm down before guiding him to the parking lot.

“You’re going straight to bed when we get home. You’ll feel better after eight hours of sleep,” he promised.

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I feel exhausted right now. I’m glad you’re picking me up. It wouldn’t be a good idea for me to drive right now.”

“I figured. Why do you think I insisted on driving you?”

“Thank you. Hey, for real.”

Jaimie kissed him lightly on the lips. “You’re going to take it easy this week, yeah?” He waited for Jeremy to sign _Yes_, then opened the car door for him. “Come on, get it. Do you want to stop for food?”

Jeremy climbed into the car. “No, I just want to sleep.”

He’d stopped crying now that he was with Jaimie, but he still felt beat. He sent a quick text to the family group chat to let everyone know he’d landed and Jaimie had picked him up, then relaxed into the seat and let the movement of the car soothe his frayed nerves.

Cassandra was still healthy, he repeated to himself as the car sped down the highway.

Everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try and post the next chapter (which brings us to the events of the Winter Banquet) before the end of the year.  
Happy holidays, everyone!


	28. Chapter 27: What I’m Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by the ERC, the Master decides to have Kevin and Riko face off to see who really is the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: suicidal thoughts (sort of/not really... but I figured better safe than sorry)

_I never sleep or rest  
But I'm still running out of time  
I have sacrificed all of my life  
The time has come to  
To prove to you what I'm worth  
_—“Blockades” by Muse

## Chapter 27: What I’m Worth

**Chat with “****J.”**  
  
**Jeremy:** question: do you have plans for thanksgiving?  
  
you should come to seattle if you don’t  
  
jean too, of course!  
  
**Kevin:** Thank you, but we’ve got practice  
  
**Jeremy:** yeah you better practice ‘cause we’ve got an amazing team this year  
  
(seriously though, you guys are crazy)  
  
**Kevin:** Shut up, we’re committed!  
  
**Jeremy:** me too: committed to eating turkey and pie :)  
  


* * *

Kevin’s heart was racing in his chest as if he’d just run a marathon. He looked over his shoulder to check no other Ravens were in sight, then grabbed Jean’s wrist, pulled him into the bathroom and locked the door.

“What’s wrong?” Jean whispered in quick French.

“The ERC thinks the Master is holding me back. He’s going to make me play against Riko to see who’s the best,” Kevin managed to explain before panicking completely. “He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to torture me and then—”

Jean gently pushed him against the wall, a firm hand on his chest. The tiled wall was cold against his back. “Breathe.”

Kevin’s right hand clenched the sleeve of Jean’s sweater as his left hand went to touch the tattoo on his own left cheek, shaking fingers tracing the number two almost automatically. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.

“What do I do?” he asked a few moments later, voice desperate. “The Master ordered both of us to give it our all, to do our best. I can’t disobey his orders, but Riko will kill me if I don’t.”

“The Master won’t let him. You’re too valuable. Play well, but let Riko win. You’re good at that, you can do it. Hey? Look at me?” Jean’s voice softened. “It’s going to be okay.”

Kevin nodded. Jean’s presence and words were grounding him. He could think clearly again.

He would do what the Master had told him to do all those years ago when he first moved to Evermore: be number two. The ERC would back off, the Master would be satisfied, Riko would still be King, and Kevin would be allowed to stay alive and play Exy.

“Yeah, okay, I can do it,” he said.

* * *

Kevin’s world fell apart.

“You’re never going to play again, you know,” Jean said. Harsh words, soft voice, kind intentions. Kevin knew what he meant even before he added, “You can’t stay here.”

Kevin looked at him through the tears still in his eyes. Everything hurt. The world was all jagged edges and suffocating fog. He could barely breathe. He choked down a sob. “Where would I go?”

He might as well die.

This was worse than death. It was unbearable.

He didn’t have anything without Exy—or anyone. He _was_ nothing without Exy.

“Jeremy,” Jean whispered.

_Anytime_, Jeremy had said. But when someone said they wanted to help, they meant with homework or relationship issues, with a bad day or a ride to the airport. Not this. And how would he even get to California anyway? Jeremy was too far away. Geographically and—in life.

He shook his head.

“Wymack then,” Jean decided. It wasn’t a question this time. It was a plan. “They won’t follow you. You can’t play. You are free, Kevin.”

_Free_.

Freedom shouldn’t taste so sour. Freedom shouldn’t feel like death.

“Don’t you dare give up,” Jean said. “You hear me?”

Kevin closed his eyes and curled up on himself: knees drawn up to his chest, head buried in the elbow of his good arm. He couldn’t imagine getting up from the floor of Jean’s bedroom and leaving the Nest. He wasn’t strong enough or brave enough. He could not do it.

Jean left the room. Numbness settled over Kevin like a blanket.

Time slowed down.

He could hear his own breathing, feel his pulse throbbing in his broken hand. It didn’t hurt. It should hurt. It should hurt like hell. He was in shock; he would be in agony once it wore off.

What would the Master do when he found out? Put him out of his misery, like a wounded animal who could no longer hope to survive? Kevin didn’t think the Master was capable of such mercy. No, Kevin would be paraded around from one talk show to the next to squeeze out the last of his worth. Team mascot now that he could no longer play. A cautionary tale for every other player the Moriyamas would ever own.

It was a fate Kevin wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.

The door opened and Kevin recognized Jean’s footsteps.

“Come on. I am getting you out,” Jean said in French.

He hoisted Kevin up, firm but gentle, and wrapped him in his winter coat as best as he could with Kevin’s injured hand getting in the way. “The Foxes are at the Winter Banquet in Virginia. You can get there in time to catch Wymack if you leave now,” Jean said. He had Kevin’s passport and some cash; he showed them to Kevin before stuffing them in the pockets of the coat.

No cards nor phones. Both could and would be tracked. Not that paying cash and traveling without electronics would stop the Moriyamas from finding him. It would only buy him some time, hopefully enough to reach Wymack.

David Wymack helped kids in trouble all the time, didn’t he? Would he help Kevin, even if he had no reason to beyond loyalty to his mother? _Could_ he help him, even if he wanted to?

“He will know what to do,” Jean said, reading his thoughts.

If Jean was right—if the Master decided Kevin wasn’t worth the trouble of getting him back now that he couldn’t play—then he might have a chance. He wasn’t sure he wanted it. But Jean wasn’t giving him time to think, to decide, to back down. To lie on the floor and wait for death. Jean—who could barely hold on himself—had decided Kevin should live, and all Kevin could do was go along with it.

“Get a cab if you can. Go to the bus station. Keep the scarf over your face.” Jean touched Kevin’s tattoo just like he’d done hundreds of times before. Like he would never do again. He lifted the scarf over Kevin’s mouth to cover the tattoo. “Be careful.”

Kevin could not speak but he nodded, making a wordless promise to Jean to try his best to survive.

“You have to go now.” Jean pushed him gently towards the door. “I will distract him but you have to be quick.”

There was no time to say what should have been said. To thank him. To talk about feelings and impossible futures. To ask him to come with even though they both knew he couldn’t. To make promises neither of them was in a position to keep. To kiss and cry and say goodbye.

They shared a glance, and then Kevin was hurrying up the stairs, out of the front door, down the street, with a broken hand and a broken heart, with a head full of demons and not much else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to give Kevin a hug? (And Riko a knife in the back?) *Raises hand*  
With the next chapter, we will finally get to the flash-forward from the prequel. I just need to polish it off, so it shouldn't be too long.


	29. Chapter 28: Some Boys Are Sleeping Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worried about Kevin, Jeremy arrives at PSU to find out what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: References to abuse; panic attacks.

_Some boys are sleeping, some boys are sleeping alone  
Cause there's no one that's keeping them warm through evening  
They know that they're on their own   
_—“Some Boys” by Death Cab for Cutie

## Chapter 28: Some Boys Are Sleeping Alone

Standing in the Arrivals hall at Upstate Regional Airport with his bag on one shoulder and his phone against his ear, Jeremy was realizing that his brilliant plan had one fundamental flaw: he knew that Kevin was with coach Wymack, but he didn’t know where Wymack lived.

He’d spent the entire flight thinking about what he would say to Kevin once he saw him. He had a dozen speeches he could use depending on what was going on. Was it a fight with Riko? Had Riko made his uncle kick Kevin off the team? Had Riko bullied Kevin again? Or had something happened _to_ Riko?

He wasn’t going to find out unless he could actually talk to Kevin, and in order to do so he needed Wymack to pick up the phone.

The call went to voicemail again. He hung up and redialed.

Plan B: going to the court and hoping to find someone there who could tell him where to find Wymack.

Not ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed. Three more rings, then he was going to find a cab.

One.

Two.

“Didn’t I tell you to call in a few days, not a few hours?” a voice—Wymack’s voice—said on the other end of the line.

“I’m at the airport,” he said. Then, at Wymack's dismissal, he clarified: “Here in South Carolina. I’m at Upstate Regional.” 

* * *

Kevin startled awake.

For a few seconds he had no idea where he was, only that he wasn’t in his room where he should be. As panic clouded his thoughts, he heard some movement behind him. He turned around quickly and saw Wymack sitting on a chair by the bed. His battered body screamed at the sudden movement and it took him a moment to be able to breathe again.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Wymack said. He held up his phone: no sound was coming from it, but there was an incoming call notification on the screen. “It’s your friend again.”

Kevin shook his head. He couldn’t talk to Jeremy right now. What would he even say to him?

Calling him had been a mistake.

He’d barely been able to explain it to Wymack, who—considering the background of his players—had heard a lot of messed-up stuff in his life. How was he going to explain it to _Jeremy_?

“He’s already called twice in the last few minutes.”

“I can’t,” Kevin said. He hated how weak his voice sounded. As if Riko had broken something inside of him together with his hand.

_His hand_.

He felt sick just by looking at it. The pain was dulled down by some pills Abby had given him, but he could still feel the bones breaking under Riko’s shoe, he could still hear Jean’s words ringing in his ears.

_You’re never going to play again, you know._

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

He couldn’t think about this right now. He tried to focus back on Wymack, who was still looking at his phone.

“He’s calling again,” Wymack announced.

“Tell him to stop.”

“Didn’t I tell you to call in a few days? It’s only been a few hours,” Wymack said as he answered the call. “So? Don’t they have clocks at the airport?” He paused and Kevin watched his expression change: surprise, slight annoyance. “You’re _here_? Jesus Christ, you kids get more and more stubborn every year. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, why do you think he’ll want to see you?”

Jeremy was _here_?

He’d crossed the country to see him because Kevin had called him and told him—what? Nothing, really. Only that he wasn’t okay. Had he said anything else? He didn’t think so.

Wymack was looking at him, the question clear on his face.

Kevin hesitated for a moment but then he nodded.

“I’ll come pick you up,” Wymack told Jeremy before hanging up. He got up and looked at Kevin for a few seconds. Kevin thought he was going to say something, but instead Wymack just left.

Kevin pulled the blankets up to his chin, curled up on his right side and brought his injured hand closer to his chest.

* * *

The Foxes’ nurse—Abby? Aggie? Jeremy was usually good with names but he hadn’t really been listening when she’d introduced herself—kept insisting that Kevin needed to rest and they shouldn’t bother him right now, but for once Jeremy wasn’t keen on playing nice. He needed to see Kevin right the fuck _now_.

He opened his mouth to argue, but Wymack beat him to it.

“Kevin wants to see him. And we both know he’s not getting much rest anyway,” the Foxes’ coach told maybe-Abby-maybe-Aggie.

She threw her hands up and moved out of the way, but didn’t completely back off. “Five minutes, then you let him sleep,” she said.

Jeremy nodded but he was already opening the door and stepping into the dark room. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the low light: Kevin—he couldn’t see his face but it had to be Kevin—was curled up in bed even though it wasn’t even dinnertime yet.

Was he sick?

Wymack had refused to give him any answers on their way here.

He took a few steps into the room. Kevin slowly rolled on his back. In the light coming from the hallway, Jeremy saw a faint bruise on the right side of his face. Then his eyes traveled down his body and—

Shit.

_His hand_.

His _left_ hand. His _racquet_ hand.

“Hey,” he said softly. He had a million questions he wanted to ask but he forced himself to remain calm.

Kevin sat up. He was moving slowly, stiffly. Jeremy knew the controlled movements very well from experience of particularly harsh games. Whatever had happened to Kevin, though, couldn’t have happened on an Exy court.

He’d been _beaten up_.

“I can’t believe you came here,” Kevin said.

Jeremy stepped closer to the bed. “Are you okay?” he asked, even though it was obvious he wasn’t. How could he be?

Kevin didn’t reply.

“What happened?” Jeremy’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Again, Kevin refused to reply. This time, at least, he shook his head no.

Jeremy eyed the chair behind him, but it was too far away. He wanted to be closer to Kevin. He gingerly sat on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jog Kevin. His friend didn’t move. Slowly, Jeremy reached out to rest his hand on Kevin’s knee, hoping there were no bruises there. He felt Kevin’s muscles tense up under his fingers and was about to let him go when Kevin relaxed again. It was as if Kevin trusted him, but his body took a bit longer to do the same. He rubbed his knee gently.

Kevin was looking down at his hand now.

“He did it to me,” Kevin whispered after what felt like hours. “He—He broke my hand.”

_He_.

Meaning _Riko_?

_Riko _had done this to him?

“Was it—?”

“An accident? No.” Kevin finally looked at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No,” Kevin said right away. “No hospitals. Abby looked at it.”

Jeremy doubted the Foxes’ nurse had the necessary qualifications or experience to deal with this. “I really think an orthopedic should examine it. Have you even had X-rays?” he asked. “And what about the police? Have you talked to them yet?”

Too many questions—or maybe the wrong questions—he realized too late when Kevin pulled back.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Kevin said again. He tensed up, and even in the dim light of the room Jeremy could see that he was scared. “It’s dangerous. He’s going to—” He shook his head, then took a sharp breath. “I need to go back.”

“Back to Edgar Allan? I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not until Riko has been arrested,” Jeremy said.

Kevin didn’t reply but another voice did. “They’re not going to arrest him.” Wymack was standing by the door. “And you are not going back there, Kevin. You’re staying here where you’re safe.”

It didn’t make sense. None of this did. Why would Riko hurt Kevin, and why did Kevin have to come all the way to South Carolina to get help? No hospitals, no police. Was he trying to _protect_ Riko?

“I don’t understand,” he admitted. He looked at Kevin for answers, then Wymack.

For a while, neither of them talked but then, eventually, Kevin looked up at Wymack and said, “Go ahead.”

His voice was so low that Jeremy wasn’t even sure Wymack heard him.

“Everything?” Wymack asked instead.

Kevin nodded. “I trust him.”

Wymack came into the room, closing the door behind him, and turned on a small lamp. He moved the chair to the foot of the bed and sat down heavily.

“This doesn’t leave this room,” he said gravely. He waited for Jeremy to nod before going on. “Tetsuji Moriyama comes from an immigrated Yakuza family. Japanese mafia. His brother Kengo is the head of the empire. They are more powerful than any of us can probably imagine. Tetsuji, being a second-born son, isn’t directly involved with the family business, but he’s still mixed up in it.”

He went on to explain how Ravens games were used by the Moriyamas to meet with business partners and for money laundering, how and why Riko grew up at Evermore with his uncle, and how Kevin was expected to make money for the family who had invested so many resources in his upbringing. And then he spoke about the emotional and physical abuse Kevin had been subjected to. He didn’t go into detail—Jeremy doubted he knew any details himself—but it was quite obvious that it had been going on for years, probably since Kevin first moved to West Virginia.

Jeremy didn’t live in a fantasy world. He knew things like this existed, he knew they were real. But he’d never thought someone close to him could be touched by it. They happened far away from his world, to other people. People he didn’t know.

One of his closest friends was not supposed to be caught up in it.

He knew it was the truth, he could see it Wymack’s face and in Kevin’s body language, but—

How had he not noticed?

_Damn_.

Kevin was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest, injured hand cradled against his body and a hollow look on his face. He was looking down at the space between him and Jeremy on the bed, and hadn’t said a word so far.

Jeremy wanted to tell him how sorry he was that he hadn’t realized what he was going through, that he hadn’t helped him, but Wymack, after a brief pause, started talking again.

Jeremy carefully put his hand on Kevin’s back. Kevin seemed to lean into the touch so Jeremy kept it there. He rubbed tiny, delicate circles with his thumb as he listened to Wymack explain how Riko was supposed to be the best, and Kevin second best; how the ERC had asked Tetsuji if he was holding Kevin back; how Tetsuji had pitted Kevin and Riko against each other to find out who was really the best, and how Kevin had been careful to let Riko win; how it hadn’t mattered and Riko—in a fit of jealous rage—had broken Kevin’s hand; how Jean had gotten Kevin out of the prison they lived in, and how Kevin had traveled all the way to Virginia and knocked on the door of Wymack’s hotel room the night of the Winter Banquet.

“So he’s here now and he’s not going back,” Wymack concluded, clearly aiming his last words at Kevin more than Jeremy.

Jeremy turned to Kevin again. He scooted a bit closer without moving his hand away from Kevin’s back. He wanted to hug him, to maybe be able to tell him with touch what he couldn’t express with words, but he didn’t want to hurt him.

Guilt was crushing him. Kevin had been through daily abuse and Jeremy hadn’t noticed.

He suddenly remembered the last time they’d met and the bruises around Kevin’s wrist. He should have known something was really wrong then. He should have—done something.

“Kev, I’m _so_ sorry,” he said softly. “I wish—_Shit_. I wish I’d known. I wish I could have done something. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize what was going on.”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Kevin said, speaking for the first time since giving Wymack permission to share his story with Jeremy. “I still shouldn’t have told you. I’m putting you all in danger. And Jean. Jean is still there.” There was an edge of panic in his voice now. “I need to go back.”

“You’re not going back,” Wymack said.

“I’m with him. You can’t go back there,” Jeremy said.

“If I stay it’s only going to get worse. If I go back now he might forgive me. He might not kill me.”

“That’s—That’s not reassuring at all.” Jeremy was still trying to wrap his head around it all, but one thing he knew for certain: Kevin was _not_ going back to his abusers. No way.

“Riko’s gonna take it out on Jean if he hasn’t already. You have no idea what he’s gonna do to him. I need—I need to go back.” Kevin was getting frantic and his breathing was becoming labored. “I can’t—”

Jeremy was familiar enough with his own panic attacks to recognize the signs. “Kev, look at me,” he said gently. He offered him his hand, the one that wasn’t still on his back. “Take my hand?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a good move, but Kevin immediately took his hand in his right one. Good sign, probably.

“I need to—I need to go back,” Kevin stammered. “Fuck, I—I can’t catch my breath.”

“You’re having a panic attack. I know it’s scary but I’m here with you. I promise you’re safe and you’re going to get through this. We’re going to do this together.” He turned to look at Wymack. “Can you open the window? Just a little will be fine.” Fresh air usually helped him; he hoped it would help Kevin too. He focused on Kevin again. “What can I do to help?”

Kevin didn’t reply. He was holding Jeremy’s hand tight and struggling to breathe.

“Do you want to try and breathe with me?” Jeremy asked softly. He didn’t wait for a reply that may or may not come and started counting breaths for him, slowing down his own breathing in the hope it would help Kevin do the same.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Kevin’s breathing slowed down. He rested his forehead against his bent knees without letting go of Jeremy’s hand.

“Keep breathing,” Jeremy said. “You did great.”

He rubbed Kevin’s back slowly, hoping to give him some comfort.

When Kevin opened his eyes and looked at him, Jeremy squeezed his hand. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m not,” Kevin said. There was no panic in his voice this time. He was stating a fact and the certainty in his voice was harrowing.

“We’ll keep you safe,” Wymack said.

He’d kept to the side and let Jeremy take the lead, probably sensing that crowding Kevin would have made things worse for him, but now here he was, a calm and steady presence. Kevin had definitely done the right thing by coming to him.

“They don’t even know where you are right now,” the man continued.

“They’ll find out. Riko has connections. He’ll find out.”

“Tetsuji clearly doesn’t want the media to know since he told them you and Riko are on a skiing trip,” Wymack said. Jeremy must have missed the news while he was traveling. “I’ll talk to him. We’ll reach an agreement.”

Kevin wasn’t reassured. “They’ll want me to go back. I have a contract with them. I can’t just… leave. They’ll never let me leave. I must go back. If I go back now they might forgive me.”

“You are not going back there. Your mom would’ve wanted me to look out for you and there is no way I’m letting you go back there.”

Jeremy heard in Wymack’s voice some of the guilt he felt. This man who’d been checking on Kevin over the years hadn’t noticed what was going on either. It should have eased Jeremy’s guilt, but it didn’t. It just meant both of them had failed Kevin.

“You can’t stop them. Nobody can.”

“What about the police? Or… Or the FBI?” Jeremy asked. If it was a criminal organization they were talking about, the authorities could help. Right?

Kevin shook his head with conviction. “They wouldn’t be interested in the branch family and I don’t have any useful information on Lord Kengo’s empire. I don’t know anything useful to them so they wouldn’t protect me.”

“Well, I’m with coach Wymack, you can’t go back. They will just keep hurting you.”

“If I don’t, he’ll come for me.”

Jeremy didn’t know if Kevin meant Riko or coach Moriyama, but it didn’t really matter. “We’ll keep you safe. Nobody knows where you are, right?”

“Right.”

“So we agree: You’re not going back,” Wymack concluded.

“Okay.” Kevin’s reply was barely more than a whisper.

It was a lot of serious talk for someone who’d just had a panic attack—not to mention everything he’d gone through over the past couple of days—and Jeremy decided to change the subject. “Do you want a hug?” he asked, opening his arms.

Kevin nodded and moved a bit closer. Jeremy wrapped his arms around him, trying to be careful not to hurt him. He could tell Kevin had bruises from the way he moved, but he didn’t know where he was hurt or how badly.

He’d expected Kevin to hold back, but he was wrong: Kevin rested his weight against Jeremy’s chest and clung to him.

Jeremy mentally kicked himself for not doing it sooner but only for a second, then he dismissed the thought. Breaking down under his feelings of guilt wasn’t going to help anybody. He was doing the best he could. He seemed to be helping Kevin right now even if he had not before. That was all he could do—all anyone could be expected to do. Everything else was just wishful thinking.

Later, probably in his therapist’s office, he would deal with the rest. Right now, all he could do was be there for his friend.

Abby’s voice interrupted his thoughts. She addressed Wymack, but the message was clearly meant for Jeremy too. “David, I think it’s time to let Kevin rest for a while.”

“Alright. We’ll talk again after dinner,” Wymack said.

Jeremy broke apart from the hug but remained close. Kevin seemed to appreciate his physical presence so he wasn’t going to leave unless Kevin asked him to. Abby clearly had Kevin’s best interest at heart, but she didn’t know him, right? Maybe she didn’t know what was best for him.

“Can you stay?” Kevin asked Jeremy, an edge of panic in his voice.

“Of course.”

“You should rest, Kevin,” Abby said kindly.

“I’ll get my iPad, we can watch a movie,” Jeremy said, then looked at Kevin. “Unless you want to take a nap? You’re probably tired. I’ll stay either way.”

“No, movie sounds fine.”

Jeremy rubbed his arm, then got up. “I’ll be right back.”

Wymack and Abby preceded him out of the room. Jeremy retrieved his tablet from the luggage he’d abandoned in the living room.

“A few of the Foxes will move into my house for winter break tomorrow, but you’re welcome to stay at my place tonight,” Abby told him.

“It’s already a bit crowded here,” Wymack added.

Jeremy noticed the blanket and pillow on the couch. Wymack must have been sleeping there to let Kevin have his bed.

“Thank you,” Jeremy told Abby. “It’s very kind of you.”

Abby nodded at his USC duffel bag. “You came all the way from California to see him?”

“Yes, and I’m glad I did even though I can see he’s already getting a lot of support.” Jeremy took an awkward step towards the bedroom. “I should probably—”

Abby nodded and Jeremy went back to Kevin.

“Are you staying here tonight?” Kevin asked as Jeremy took off his shoes and got settled next to him on the bed.

“Yeah. I was on my way home and I promised my mom I’d be there tomorrow, but I’m spending the night at Abby’s.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“You did the right thing by calling me.”

Kevin sighed. “I’m not so sure. Now you’re involved and that puts you in danger too. It’s not fair.”

“Neither is what they did to you,” Jeremy replied, not even the hint of a doubt in his voice.

Maybe he was still processing, maybe the magnitude of it all hadn’t hit him yet, but if Kevin had been facing this alone for the past decade or so, Jeremy could sure as hell face it with him now. He didn’t have a solution but he could offer support and maybe even—

“I don’t know what to do,” Kevin said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Do you want my advice?” Jeremy waited for Kevin to nod. “Take it one step at a time. You don’t need to decide your whole future right now. It’s winter break. Let’s figure out where you’re going to stay for the next couple of weeks.”

“Here, I guess.”

The same idea from a few moments ago popped up in Jeremy’s head. And yeah, maybe it was crazy, but it made _so much_ sense.

“You could come to Seattle with me, you know? You’d be safe there,” he said. “And my mom’s Christmas roast alone is worth crossing the country for. That’s what Cassandra’s boyfriend says, anyway. Plus, my sister-in-law is an orthopedic surgeon, she can have a look at your hand. No hospital, no records, I promise you can trust her. I know she will do it. And while we’re there we can talk to coach Rhemann and see what our options are.”

The more he talked about it, the more he could see it happening. It was perfect. Elodie could help Kevin with his hand, and he would be far away from Edgar Allan and the Moriyamas. He could rest and heal in a safe place.

Staying here was a good alternative, of course. Wymack seemed willing to do anything to help Kevin and he was ready to protect him and fight for him. But would it be enough? PSU was a small university. Rhemann was one of the few coaches—maybe the only one—who had the power, prestige and connections to stand up to Tetsuji Moriyama. And Jeremy _knew_ that Rhemann would agree to help Kevin.

“Wymack said I can stay here,” Kevin said. “That he’ll strike a deal with Edgar Allan somehow. I can be his assistant coach or something.”

“That’s good. I think USC might be an even better option. I’m biased, obviously, but think about it: you’d be much further away from him, and USC can protect you in ways a small university like PSU can’t. USC can stand up to Edgar Allan; they have that kind of power. They can get you released from your contract. They’ll pay off your scholarship.”

Kevin looked down at his left hand. “I can’t play,” he said. Jeremy felt the pain in his voice go all the way to his heart.

“I know you’re injured, but you’ll heal. I’m sure Coach R. could use you as an assistant coach until you’re better.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever play again. Jean said—” Kevin didn’t finish the sentence. “It’s my racquet hand. It’s… _ruined_.”

There were tears in his eyes and Jeremy didn’t know if it was because of his hand or because of Jean. He gently pulled him into another hug. “Maybe. Maybe not. You won’t know that until a specialist has a look at it and even then… recoveries can be unpredictable and if anyone can be the exception, it’s you.”

Kevin pulled away. “I don’t want false hope, Jeremy.”

Jeremy didn’t think it was false hope. Then again, he had no idea how badly Kevin’s hand was broken. It was wrapped in a thick bandage and all Jeremy could tell from Kevin’s movements was that it hurt.

“Well, even if you can’t play, you can coach,” he said, placing a hand on Kevin’s good arm. “You’re a great coach. I’m proof of that. Not that you need it, but I could write you a stellar letter of recommendation. But you don’t have to decide any of that right now. Let’s see how the next couple of weeks go. I can ask coach R. to make some calls. We’ll see what the options are and then you can decide. Right now, all you have to do is focus on getting better and decide whether you want to stay here for the next couple of weeks, or come to Seattle with me. Just the next two weeks, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah. I think I can do that,” Kevin said, some tension leaving his voice.

“And obviously I want you to come with me, but it’s okay if you want to stay here. Whatever you think is best for you. No pressure. If you stay here, I’ll call you every day and I’ll try to stop by for a couple of days before going back to Cali. If you want me to, of course.”

Kevin thought about it for a few moments before asking, “What would your parents say?”

“They’d be happy to have you.”

“I don’t have… anything. Like, literally. I’m wearing coach Wymack’s clothes right now.”

That could be a problem. Crossing the country by bus was going to take—way longer than Jeremy liked. He would do it, but he wasn’t sure Kevin could even handle a trip like that. “Do you have your passport?” he asked. If he did, then they could fly to Seattle. Problem solved. Well, _one_ problem solved.

Luckily, Kevin nodded. “Jean put it in my pocket before helping me get out.”

“That was smart. We’ll get you clothes and everything else. Don’t worry about it.”

“They’ll see my name. At the airport. They’ll know.”

True. Kevin was quite famous and a good number of people would recognize him. But it wasn’t impossible to avoid attracting attention, was it? It was doable. They just had to be careful and think it through.

“Only the people who work for the airline will see your name and they can’t broadcast it. A hoodie and a pair of sunglasses and the other passengers won’t recognize you. Riko doesn’t know about me, right? That we’re friends?”

“No,” Kevin confirmed. “He wouldn’t have allowed it. I’m his and his alone.”

The words sent chills down Jeremy’s spine.

“You’re not his, you—” he started, but something in Kevin’s expression told him it wasn’t the time to have this conversation. “You know what, it doesn’t matter right now. Since he doesn’t know we’re friends, Seattle won’t mean anything to him. Even if he somehow gets our flight info, or if someone spots you, he won’t be able to find you there. It’s a big city. And to be extra safe we can fly to Portland and then drive home from there.”

Kevin nodded slowly, considering it. “Since I know coach Marks from UP, he’ll think I went there for help. That’s good, actually.”

“See? It would work.”

“Coming with you does sound good.”

Jeremy gave him a small smile. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? I mean, I didn’t pressure you, did I?”

“No. I want to come.”

Jeremy’s smile widened. “Good. Okay then. Let’s book the flight, then I’ll call my parents to tell them. I’ll get one of my sisters to pick us up from the airport.”

“I’ll tell Wymack and Abby,” Kevin said.

“I can tell them if you want to sleep for a bit. You must be tired.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

* * *

Finding two last-minute seats for the Monday before Christmas proved to be a little harder than Jeremy had anticipated, but eventually he found a decent combination with a layover in Chicago that would get them to Portland in under eight hours.

After making the booking, Jeremy called his parents and Kevin went to the kitchen to talk to Wymack.

“Hi, Mom,” he said when she picked up.

“Hi, baby. How are you? Was your flight okay?”

Jeremy closed his eyes. It was reassuring to hear his mom’s voice.

“Yeah, it was fine. I’m with my friend now. He’s okay but he’s been through a lot so—Yeah, I’m just trying to be there for him,” he said. “Actually, I invited him to come home with me. I just booked two plane tickets for tomorrow. I hope it’s okay. He—Mom, he doesn’t have any family and—”

His mother interrupted him before he started rambling. “Of course it’s okay, baby. You know your friends are always welcome.”

“He’s been hurt and he just got away from a bad situation,” Jeremy continued. He and Kevin had agreed that the best thing to do was tell Jeremy’s family part of the truth: enough so they would understand why they couldn’t broadcast his presence in their home, but no more than they strictly needed to know. “I’m going to need to put some more charges on the emergency card. He needs, like, clothes and—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” his mother reassured him. “Take care of your friend. It’s a good thing that you want to be there for him. I’m proud of you.”

Jeremy went through the mental list of things he needed to tell her. “It’s not just anyone. It’s Kevin. _Day_. And nobody can know that he’s staying with us. He doesn’t need to be dealing with the media right now on top of everything else.”

“Of course. I’ll tell your dad and your sisters.”

Jeremy didn’t stress the point. His mother’s voice told him she understood how important it was and she would make sure the rest of the family did too.

With the most stressful part of the phone call out of the way, he relaxed into the conversation.

“We land in Portland tomorrow at 3.43 PM,” he said.

“Someone will be there to pick you up. I need to check when your sisters are landing, but me, Dad or Ying Yue will be there.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you, Jerebear?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m okay. A bit worried, but I’m okay.”

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself. Because you tend to forget that. Make sure you’re getting enough sleep and food, and take your meds if you need them,” his mother said.

“Don’t worry, I’m taking care of myself.”

“Good. And tomorrow night you’ll be here and we can take care of you.”

He smiled a little. That sounded really good right now. “I can’t wait.”

He stayed on the phone a bit longer with his mom, and had to promise her to get her some answers as to what Kevin liked to eat. After saying goodnight, he went looking for Kevin.

He found him on the couch alone. Subdued voices coming from the kitchen told him that Wymack and Abby were in there talking. Kevin seemed calm, so the conversation shouldn’t have been too hard. He pulled his legs up against his chest to make space on the couch, and Jeremy took the newly-freed seat next to him.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Kevin didn’t elaborate. “Your parents?”

“All good. They can’t wait to meet you.”

To distract him from bad thoughts, Jeremy started telling him how he still hadn’t gotten presents for his younger sisters and what his ideas were. The oldest siblings always teamed up and got one single gift for each family member. The little kids were the exception: since they loved unwrapping presents, quantity over quality made more sense so they usually got them several small presents instead of a bigger one.

Jeremy wanted to get books for his youngest sisters but he hadn’t decided which books to get yet. Alice Hope was reading at seventh grade level despite being only eight years old, and was very particular about the books she liked. For Avery, who was six, he wanted to get a book they could read together. Maybe a fairytale.

Kevin nodded along. He didn’t talk much, but seemed to appreciate Jeremy’s chatter. 

“I’m stepping out for a little bit to get some groceries,” Abby announced after a while. “I’m going to make dinner for you boys so you won’t be subjected to David’s cooking.”

“I can cook just fine,” Wymack mumbled.

“Thank you, Abby.” Jeremy got up. “Actually, is it okay if I come with you? There’s a few things I’d like to pick up before our flight tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

He grabbed his jacket and followed her out of the door. In the car, by an unspoken agreement, they avoided talking about Kevin. He asked her about her plans for the holidays and then answered her questions about his classes and his family.

While she went to the supermarket, Jeremy managed to find some warm, comfortable clothes for Kevin. He had to guess his size but thanks to a kind shop assistant who looked roughly as tall and almost as fit as Kevin, he was pretty sure he got the right one. Then he found a duffel bag, some basic toiletries, and a sling for his arm. On impulse, he also got a copy of _The Iliad_. Maybe Kevin would want to read it on the plane, he figured.

When he met up with Abby, he showed her the sling and got her approval. They went back to the car and she drove them back to Wymack’s house.

Kevin was sleeping when they got back and Abby refused Jeremy’s offer to help with dinner, so he Facetimed with Jaimie and then with Laila. He didn’t tell either of them about Kevin and about flying to South Carolina and felt slightly guilty about it, but he knew it was a necessary measure to protect Kevin. The more people knew his whereabouts, the higher the chance that someone would slip up.

After dinner, Jeremy found himself back on the couch with Kevin since Abby and Wymack had insisted on doing the dishes.

Jeremy was telling him about the weather in Seattle, but Kevin was fidgeting, his mind clearly somewhere else. Jeremy didn’t know if it was his place to ask, but after a few minutes decided to do it anyway. “Should you be taking any meds?”

“I’m taking painkillers. They help a little.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Jeremy hesitated, but at this point he might as well, right? Even though he had a feeling he already knew the answer. “I was actually wondering if you were on any medication before, at Edgar Allan. Specifically, anti-anxiety meds. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Kevin shrugged. “No, why?”

“Because you seem anxious. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to give you my meds if you’ve never taken them even though they might help.”

“Probably not. I’ll survive.”

Jeremy nodded. “I just wanted to make it a bit easier.”

“I’m stronger than I look right now,” Kevin said.

_Shit_.

Alright. Jeremy should have known. Kevin grew up in a place where weakness would get you hurt or maybe even killed, a place where you had to be like everyone else—except on the court, where you had to be exceptional—a place where there was no space for mental issues.

It had taken even Jeremy a while to accept that being in therapy didn’t make him weak. With Kevin, it was going to be an uphill battle.

“I know you’re strong. You wouldn’t have survived all that if you weren’t,” Jeremy said. “Being strong has nothing to do with it. My meds help me when I’m struggling. I take them when I need them, just like I take an aspirin if I’m running a fever. It doesn’t make me weak. And if _you_ need them, it doesn’t mean you’re weak either. It has nothing to do with that.”

It was a hot issue for him and he’d gotten into a few verbal fights over the years with people who didn’t get it, but he tried to keep his tone gentle because this was _Kevin_. This was his friend who’d never had access to the same resources Jeremy had come to take for granted. His entire support system had been a kid who was just as scared as he was, and that was after years of being completely alone with his abusers. It wasn’t his fault if he thought anxiety made him weak—to the point of being in denial about it, Jeremy realized thinking back about their interactions over the past year.

In the world Kevin had grown up in, it was a weakness, because _everything_ was a weakness and everything could be used against him. His own strength on the court had been used against him, as a reason to hurt him.

Kevin didn’t argue. Jeremy didn’t know if he agreed or if he just wasn’t feeling up for a discussion. Probably the latter.

It didn’t matter. They would work on it. They would get him the support he needed. They would get him better. It was going to take time, but he was going to recover, Jeremy had to believe that.

“Do they prevent the… you know?” Kevin asked, looking down.

“The panic attacks?”

Kevin nodded, looking uncomfortable. _Ashamed_.

“The right meds can help. Most of the time, at least,” Jeremy said. He wanted to tell him there was no reason to feel ashamed, but Kevin looked ill at ease with the conversation already without Jeremy bringing attention to it. So, instead, he asked, “Were you getting them before?”

“No. First one was while Jean was trying to—” Unable to finish the sentence, Kevin held up his left hand for a moment.

He looked scared. He looked a breath away from crumbling under the weight of it all. The age difference between them was only two years but right now Kevin looked much younger than he was. Jeremy wanted to hug him but Kevin’s guarded stance didn’t make it look like the right move right now.

“There are techniques to get through them, to make it easier,” he said instead. “I can show you, but a therapist can probably help you more than I can. I only know what works for me and that might not be what’s best for you.”

“The breathing thing you did before? That helped.”

Jeremy nodded. “Four-seven-eight, yeah. I do it when I get anxious and when I can’t sleep. I’ll teach you.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Kevin said, finally looking at him.

“I’m glad I came. And I’m glad that you’re coming home with me.” Jeremy rubbed Kevin’s knee. “You’re going to be okay, I promise,” he said, and he meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> **Work Skin credits:** [Text messages](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434845/chapters/14729722); [Page dividers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817334); [Chapter Headers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737931/chapters/39262852); [Emojis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580324/chapters/15055576).


End file.
